


Obsession

by awesome122316



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Bisexual Harry Potter, F/M, Family, Gay Albus Severus Potter, Gay Sex, Gay Tom Riddle, Good Tom Riddle, Happy Ending, M/M, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Original Character(s), Orphans, Post-Canon, how canon SHOULD be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 198,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesome122316/pseuds/awesome122316
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>21 years after the war, Harry's life begins to fall apart. Ginny files for divorce, taking the kids and house, and forcing Harry to move into 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry, wanting to relive his glory days, finds himself lost with no one to turn to but Riddle himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Papers to Sign

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank mother J.K for her creation of the wonderful universe in which I will be writing. May she continue to make the world alive for us to live in.  
> I would also like to mention that the violence warning will not affect the entire work, but only a few, later chapters of it. For those that are bothered by it, I will add a note before the chapters with graphic violence.  
> There also may be graphic depictions of sex later on in the story. For those that are bothered by this, I will add a note before the chapters including this explicit content.

Tears fell down Ginny's delicate face, her fiery red hair pulled back, but little thin strands had slipped out in the heat of the argument. Her stress was rising so fast, she could barely breathe. "How can you say things like that? In all the years we've been together."  
Harry had let his temper go to his head, and he wasn't about to let up just yet. "I feel strangled, Ginny. I can't live like this anymore. I have to do something."  
"Like what? All of our children are in school. The Auror department laid you off. There's nothing left to do, Harry!"  
"You don't understand! I can't just sit and do nothing!" Harry tossed his hands into the air. "I need to be out in the world!"  
"Doing what? Fighting dark magic? You can't go back to the days when you were The Chosen One! Those days are over. Now you're just normal Harry Potter living a normal life with your normal wife and normal kids. If that's not good enough for you, maybe you don't deserve it all!" Her trembling voice cracked, and her voice had started to become hoarse.  
"You know what?! Maybe I don't want it all! Maybe I don't want a normal life, Ginny! I never had a normal life before! What makes you think I want one now?!" Harry stomped over to the front door, pulling it open and then slamming it shut behind him with a huge bang that seemed to make the entire house quake with its echo.  
Ginny leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, sobbing quietly into her hands. Her worst fears had been confirmed. Harry had never really been happy with his life being with her. The only reason he had stayed was because of his Auror job. Harry was now 37, soon to be 38, and almost 21 years later, he had finally voiced the little bit of truth he had ever held back from her. Ginny cried on and on; for her husband, her children, her former life that had just been ruined, and most importantly, the heart she had just felt break inside her chest.  
All the years they had put into having a family had been undone in only a few months of unemployment.  
Honestly, she had confided with Hermione after their first ever fight, right after Harry had lost his job. Hermione had told her to keep a cool head and that their relationship was not over just because they had an argument.  
"Ron and I argue all the time," Hermione had said. "Usually it's because Ron feels unconfident in something or other, and sometimes he just needs to yell about something completely unrelated to show me how he feels. We may leave the room in a huff, but we always work it out in the end. Just try encouraging Harry to get another job. Maybe he could be a muggle police officer and fight muggle crime. I'm sure he'd be up for that."  
Ginny had tried with much effort to talk to Harry, but every time his unemployment was brought up, he would not say a word about it and just leave. She had just become so frustrated with it, and during another argument, she had yelled at Harry for being so dramatic thinking that the loss of his job was the end of the world. He had yelled back at her that the job had been more than just a job, and how she didn't understand how he felt. That was every argument. Ginny would just never understand how Harry felt because he would never tell her anymore. She longed for that connection, that trust, to come back to them. But alas, it had left for good.  
And now she curled up on the floor, knowing that Hermione was wrong about their relationship. It was over. Harry didn't really love her. He might have once, but not anymore. She couldn't stay with him like this. Whoever this man was, it was not the Harry she had fallen in love with, and she could sense, somewhere in her mind, how former Harry, who had been her world once upon a time, would never return. Ginny wept, covering the floor with her tears, staining her sleeves with them, until her eyes could no longer cry, and they burned with dryness.  
She stood, knowing she did not want to do this, but that Harry had left her no choice.

* * *

A man had been sitting at his desk all day in the Ministry, doing nothing but paperwork. Day in and day out, that was pretty much his job. "Sign here," he would say, "and here. And here. Initial here. Sign here. And here." All day, every day, 365 days a year, for the past 36 and a half years of his life. He didn't need the drama, or the inevitable arguments that always occurred. He hated his job, and he made sure his clients knew it.  
The man had been just sitting, bathing in a black storm cloud of his own misery, when a fiery haired woman had approached. Her eyes were red and puffy and she was just generally a mess. Unfortunately for him, this was very usual. The man grumbled to himself and pulled a box of tissues from his desk in case of leakage.  
"Can I help you?" he asked in a stiff tone, not bothering to make eye contact.  
The woman sniffled and pulled a tissue from the self-refilling box to dab her eyes, though she knew she would cry no more tears. "Yes. I would like a divorce from my husband."  
The man sighed and rolled his eyes. "Well, of course. Why else would you be here?" His tone rose, and Ginny felt her own tone rise.  
"Well if you know why I'm here, why not just give me what I need?"  
The man looked up at Ginny, plastered a smile too sweet to be real, and said, "Ma'am, if you wish your day here to be much easier, I would prefer you not to raise your tone."  
"I won't raise my tone," Ginny spoke through her teeth, "if you won't raise yours." Only about a minute had gone by and already she didn't like this man. "I'm already not having the best of days. I would appreciate it if we could just both keep our cool."  
With a grumpy nod, the man pulled a thick stack of papers from his desk. "These are the official papers. You will need to sign them in front of the head of this department with your husband present." He pulled yet another stack about half the original's thickness (but still pretty thick) and placed it beside the other. "These are other official papers to work out what, of your things, belongs to whom. You will also sign them in front of the head of this department with your husband present. I would advise bringing a lawyer or sorts." And the tiniest of all the stacks yet. "These are papers to schedule your meeting with the head of this department, and more official papers which you will sign right here with me." All the emotion from his voice was gone when he said, "Let's go through them now, shall we?"  
He flipped to the first page, summarizing what the entire packet said, not even bothering to look at any of the pages. "Give me your finger." Ginny held out her finger and he pulled a pointed quill from his drawer and pricked it, drawing blood. Ginny gave a small sound of pain and pulled her finger back. Seeming to not care one bit, he handed her the quill and continued on, "Now sign here. And here."  
He flipped to the next page. "And here. And here." And then the next page. "Initial here, stating that you are making a final decision by signing all these papers. Sign here." The date magically appeared on every page, as if maybe it would take more than one day to sign them all. The man went on to the next pages. "Sign here if this was your own decision, with no agreement from your husband, or here if he has actually said something about divorce before. Sign here. And here." His voice just droned on and on, his words losing much of their meaning with his boredom.  
"Sign here, and here, and here, and here. Sign here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here." After hearing the dull words repeated so many times, Ginny thought about how they sounded weird, and completely foreign suddenly. "Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Initial here. Sign here. Here. Here. Here…"  
She could tell it would be a longer day than she had once thought.

* * *

After storming out the door, Harry had not been sure of where to go. If it had been anything other than a fight with Ginny, he would have gone straight to Ron and Hermione's house. They were his best friends after all, and he could tell them anything (and usually he did). However, he knew this was different. Ginny was Ron's little sister. He would stick up for her no matter what, and Hermione was who Ginny confided in, so that probably wouldn't help either. Harry didn't want to be lectured. He wanted someone to talk to who would give him a solution to his bigger problem without caring about details from the more obvious problem. Unfortunately for Harry, that left no one.  
He was sure he was the only one who felt this way. Deep inside, he knew how selfish it was that he wanted to relive his glory days, especially since a lot of innocent people were murdered during those times. Everyone had been happy when Voldemort had died, and so had he, but he couldn't help feeling like his whole purpose in life had been to defeat the evil Dark Lord. When he was gone, what was he to do with his life?  
For a while, the answer had been to become an Auror and do what he was best at in the form of missions. He would do one after the other, catching rebellious Death Eaters and ridding the Wizarding World of anything related to the Dark Arts. And then the faithful day had come when Harry had been promoted to Head of the Auror office. He had rejoiced, and so had Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. They had thrown a celebration for it and all. He had enjoyed his work, making it his new life cause. For a while, his life purpose had been just to combat Dark Magic wherever it may be. He thought that Voldemort had only been his first task, and now he had so many more. He let himself become so involved, he considered his desk at the office his first home and his house with Ginny and the kids his second. The Aurors all respected him, not because of his past, but because of his persistence, determination, and spirit. They all felt so much more into their job when Harry was there, and they all grew on Harry like a second family. For twelve years, Harry had been happy knowing there was more to himself than just defeating Voldemort. He had a new reason to be alive, to wake up every day and be happy to do something he enjoyed for a living. He had anything he could ever ask for.  
And there had been one day, just one day, where he slipped. He wasn't sure what had happened, or how, but it was all over. He could remember going on a mission like normal, knowing the dangers that would await him, and feeling the adrenaline pumping in his veins, ready to purify the world by removing more crime. There were only faint traces of what had happened left in his mind. He had just reached the criminal, having them cornered, wand at the ready. And then he was on the floor, his wand a mile away, it seemed, and there was a crack and a swish of robes, and then the criminal was gone, and an Auror laid dead beside him. He had not known what had happened, but according to everyone, he had let it happen.  
All his respect died. He was fired and tossed from his office, replaced almost instantly. Now, all the Aurors respected the new head of office. Now, his second family couldn't stand the sight of him. Now, his life had no more purpose. He had spent one day completely alone in his real house, asking Ginny to spend the day away while he let himself recover from the blow of it all. He knew he was done. He had nothing left to do with his life. Being an Auror was all he could have ever wanted, and without it he was nothing.  
He wanted to go back to days before he messed up. Many times he had begged for his job back, and he was rejected. Many times he had offered to be just a regular Auror, and he was rejected. Many times, he offered to be just a secretary for the Auror office, and he was rejected. Harry wanted to fix his mistake, so badly, but they would not let him. They had completely lost their view of who Harry really was. After all it was he who had inspired so many new wizards to join the Auror office, it was he who had time and time again come to meet success in all his missions, it was he who had worked so diligently on every assignment by dedicating a part of himself to the job, and it was he who had defeated the Dark Lord, which had made all of the other things possible. How could anyone ever think of him otherwise?  
He had asked himself the question many times, and never achieved a decent answer.  
Inside, Harry felt less worthy of his life. Very often since his job loss, Ginny had reminded him that he had a perfectly normal life that he should love, but did he deserve it? He couldn't keep the job of his dreams, the job that he was destined to do. Why would he ever deserve a family if he couldn't put food on the table? Why would he deserve a family if he couldn't bear to talk about the loss of purpose to his wife, whom he had once told everything to? Why would he deserve a family if he couldn't have presents for his children on Christmas, or on their birthdays, or even remember when their birthdays were? Why did he deserve a family if he couldn't do anything he needed to do as a father?  
He had thought about it. Day after day. For a few months now. He didn't. That was his answer.  
He drew further and further away, turning himself from their lives in a hope that one day he would wake up and be replaced with someone who could do his job better than he could, just like at the office. He figured the day would come when his children would wonder why he was a failure of a father, and move out and produce a better life for themselves, learning from his own mistakes. He feared that day, but knew it would come.  
This was not the first time Harry had left after having a fight with Ginny, though he would not be surprised if it was his last. After a short thought as of where to go, Harry apparated to the Grimmauld Place. He always found the dark, and generally uninhabited place free of dust, cobwebs, doxies, and anything else associated with an empty house. He wanted to believe that Kreacher was still cleaning up the house, after so many years, but it had been 21 years since he had seen him, and logic told Harry that probably wasn't so. Never in the few times he had recently visited had he seen or heard anything different with the house that wasn't his doing, though he did spend most of his time upstairs in Siris's old bedroom. In this room, he let himself delve into his past and, most importantly, his godfather's past.  
After all these years, the posters and wallpaper were crumbling and peeling from their surface. So desperately, Harry wanted to hold them up, as if doing so would somehow bring back a past he longed to live again. He looked around and sighed, seeing the mess of letters on the floor that he had gone through in his last visit, just reveling in everything his godfather had ever gotten from others, especially others who were now dead, through the consequences of war or age. With these, Harry thought he would miss everyone less and feel closer to them just by reading the words they had written so long ago. But he was wrong. It hurt more.  
All those brave people, who fought valiantly, who lost their lives, who lived to tell the tale to the next generation, had just vanished. With each year he aged, Harry attended more funerals than he wished he would ever attend in his life, and not only just after the war. His dear friends had been leaving him. One by one, he counted off, cried tears, and waited until the next. Before, he had something to distract him, something that saved other lives. Yet now, he stared all their deaths in the face, wishing life was not so cruel to him. To them. To everyone.  
It was true that he had died once. It was not so bad being there, but he felt the incessant and nagging feeling that the world was counting on him. If he did not have others, he might still be dead. That feeling plagued his mind when others died. Did they not feel the same thing? Sure, the world didn't count on them, but their family, their friends, surely they counted on them. Wouldn't that be enough to want to come back? He wondered if they had been selfish in their choice, or if they really cared for anyone at all.  
Harry rubbed at his forehead and let himself slowly down to the ground to sit. Suddenly, he felt tired. All his life he had been tired, it seemed. He needed rest. He needed sleep. He needed to be without dreams. He needed his job back. He needed a wife who understands. He needed friends to talk to. He needed to be Harry Potter again. Was he asking too much? Clearly he must be because he never seemed to get what he asked for.  
Laying his body onto the hardwood floor, Harry's hot cheek chilled against its coolness. In his school years, he had been so lucky to get by. He had wanted things, but had never really intended to get them. Back then, he would admit he had been so humble and grateful. Now, he had grown into having expectations. He expected people to recognize him as Harry Potter at first meeting. He expected to always be thanked about what he did back then. He expected to be cut a bit of slack in his everyday life around strangers. He knew he expected a lot, but growing up as a famous person sinks in sometime, and it sure as bloody hell hadn't sunk in while he went to Hogwarts (probably because he had lived with his aunt and uncle back then). He wanted to be able to give up these expectations, but would always find he couldn't. They were drilled into his brain. He wanted to be his old self again, but as selfish as he was, he could not bear himself to want to be back in that time, when the war plagued both muggles and wizards alike. If he was not really his old self, but this new selfish self, then who was he really?  
Against his own resistance, he fell asleep, immediately diving deep into a dream. Or rather, a nightmare.


	2. The Final Blow

The day had gone on and on, fading its heavenly blue skies into the deep navy that was night, with its glittering stars and peaceful silence. The moon seemed to be full, but with hazy clouds covering it like a thin blanket, it seemed to be a crescent; like a thin mischievous smile in the sky. Ginny waited at home, a desolate feeling growing in the pit of her stomach as Harry never returned. She had been correct in her judgment. This fight had been their worst yet, and the damage was too much to ever fix completely. With the everlasting night, she realized so many things. 

She realized how much it hurt to lose the one you love, not to death, but because their love had ceased to exist. It was like driving a stake straight through your chest to puncture your heart, only to find it was coated in salt and acid so that it stung while it bled. For months, Ginny had bled out wishing Harry would snap out of his unusual mood and become the lover she had lived with for so long. The normal Harry would have removed the stake and taken every second of his time to heal her until she was completely healthy again, begging for her forgiveness and letting her know how much he really loved her. She held so much hope that he would realize her pain, and it all had fallen into nothing.

She had realized how important communication was for relationships. The last time she and Harry had held an actual conversation seemed to be so long ago. The last thing he had said to her had been, "My love, have sweet dreams." Back then, she had taken it for granted. They were just easy words. She had been tired, after all, not really paying much attention to the things around her. "Good night," she had mumbled back. And now she was bidding good night to her love, to her life, to her happiness. Never would she willingly take such things for granted again. As soon as she could, she would send a letter to her children, whom had no clue of the happenings between their parents since they were at school. No, she would send a letter to _each_ of her children, personalized just for them to show them how much she cared for them individually. She would be all they had now. Their father was not well enough to care for them. Too selfish.

And most of all, she had realized that they would have to be splitting their belongings between them. Such a thought hadn't really sunk in until she had been lost in her own thoughts. She would get roughly half of their things, some being Harry's, some being her's. At first, such a thing seemed idiotic to do. Why not just take what belongs to you and go? It would be much easier that way. But in so many years of marriage, what really belonged to whom? Ginny could hardly remember, since she hadn't ever kept track. The chair she sat in was bought so long ago. Would she find herself sitting in it again in the future, or would this be the last time she would ever sit in it? Would she get the house, or would she have to move? She would fight for her children, and she would win. But with the children, she would need the house, right? And if she had the house, surely she would get most, if not all, of the furniture inside it. What would Harry do without the house and the children? Where would he live? Would he have to get a new job to survive, or would he get to keep his family fortune? If so, then however would Ginny pay for things? Ginny had a fun but low-paying job, and she would have all the children to care for. New books, new robes, food, supplies for school; could she afford it? She found her mind had thought of these things before, when she had been a child living in a house full of people with only so much money, but the house had been full of love, and that had been all they had ever needed. With that in mind, she vowed to provide such a house for her children, with or without a father.

Late into the night, when Ginny could no longer see things that were in front of her in the darkness, her eye lids drooped, and the Sandman caught her off guard, sending her into a surprisingly pleasant sleep. She was spared a dream of any sort, allowing her mind and body to simply rest. It had been a long time since she had slept so well. Always, it seemed, Harry dreamed of things from is past that haunted him. He never had good dreams. In all the years they had been together, he always had wished Ginny sweet dreams, while secretly wishing himself no dreams at all. In the past, they discussed these nightmares of his.

" _Harry, love, what happened? Are you alright?"_

" _Oh yes, I'm…I'm fine. Just…just a bad dream."_

" _What happened in it?"_

_He looked so solemn. "It was Dobby. I put him in so much danger, and then there was nothing I could do to help him. I'm so selfish. Voldemort was right. I just let all my friends die for me until I was ready to face him myself."_

" _No, love, you had a job to do. Dumbledore put you up to it. You did what had to be done. And Dobby was just showing his true friendship by helping you out. He risked himself so you could save the world. That's not selfish at all. You cared so much for everyone else. You didn't want anyone to die for you, they just did so to protect what they believed in. They believed in you, and you didn't let them down. It's all over now, Harry. Get some rest."_

" _Alright."_

" _Good night."_

" _Sweet dreams."_

Always, such things had plagued his thoughts. She never would have guessed the reason they did was because he wanted to be back at that time. Of all things, she would have guessed that he never wanted to think of those things ever again. How wrong she had been…

As the morning light began to stream into the windows of the house with the rising sun, Ginny was jolted awake by the sound of the door opening. She gave a moment for her eyes to adjust, looking at the silhouetted figure standing in the doorway, unmoving. A few seconds passed by, and her eyes came into focus and revealed to her black, tousled hair, broad shoulders, and emerald green eyes. At last, Harry had returned.

"Harry," she whispered, not wanting to break the huge silence that had settled over when night had begun.

To no surprise, Harry looked awful. He hadn't changed clothes, bathed, or attempted to tame his unruly hair. The bags under his eyes were dark, shadowing his bright eyes with a dark underlining. Ginny figured he had not been as lucky as she had with dreamless sleep. He most certainly appeared that way.

"Ginny, I'm sorry." He looked down to the floor, not feeling worthy enough to meet her eyes.

With her mind empty from any reply, she just simply stared. Never before had he apologized. He had always come back in just as bad a mood as when he left, not really speaking to Ginny no matter how much she prodded him. After all that time yesterday spent signing those papers, maybe she might not need them after all.

"Harry, it's fine. Come. Sit here," she patted the chair next to her, "let's just relax."

Yet Harry did not budge. He merely shook his head. "It's _not_ fine. I've been awful to you, Ginny. How can you stand me yelling and not listening to a word you say? I've been so selfish. I didn't care about you, or us, or the kids! I didn't think about my _own kids_ , Ginny! How can you stay with me after all this? How can you stand me? I can't even stand myself."

Ginny looked deep into those green eyes, the very same ones she had gotten lost in all those years ago. This was the Harry she fell in love with. She didn't know where he had been all this time, but she was glad to have him back.

"Harry, we'll get through this, alright, love?"

Harry shook his head again. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I don't think this will work anymore."

She sighed. "I know, Harry. I don't know exactly where we went wrong, but I figured this was the final blow to…well, us. I already went through some of the paperwork involved to get a divorce." Her sweet eyes looked up. "Do you want to go through with it, then?"

There was a moment, just a few seconds, where Harry thought. He thought about everything they had been through together, and everything they might have been through. He thought about the kids, how they would react to the news and how often he would get to see them. He thought about what that would do to their relationship, and what it would do to other relationships. And finally, he came to his conclusion.

"Yes. We'll…let's finish the paperwork."

* * *

 

Even as the light of day spread its wings across England, one house, it seemed, gained none of its light. As the sun may try and try again to let its glory burst through the tough exterior of the house, once sunlight got in through the windows, it lost all saturation, and became nothing but dull air. This, however, was no magic, but simply the gloom and natural atmosphere of the house. To its one inhabitant, the place was rather dull and old, but his heart belonged to the house, and so in the house he stayed. After a while, he did not find it hard to believe that his father had been so odd. His father's allegiance had been in the wrong places. If it had not been for a certain someone, surely his father would not have met the fate that so rightfully brightened history.

He trudged around the bottom floor, glancing around at the spotless walls and the spotless floors and the peeling wallpaper and the old furniture that always looked dusty no matter how many times it was dusted, both manually and magically. In the dull air, the house looked completely grey, absent of all color. Was there no purpose to his life besides this house? Was he meant to have any purpose to his life? He had heard great tales of his father before his death. He was a martyr to those of his kind. In this house, he could look to one wall and see the ancestry he came from.

" _All wonderful,"_ his mother had said to him before she, too, had met her fate. _"Be patient. One day you will be just as loyal to your duty as they."_

With that held in his heart, he headed upstairs. While he had not been here all his life, this was where he belonged; his instincts told him. When his day came, not only would he prove to be the best yet in his family, but far succeed in anything he had been set out to achieve. Being an orphan did not matter. He was old enough to care for himself and this house. It was not as if he was actually alone. His father was on the wall. And so was his grandmother. And his grandmother's father. And his great grandfather's father. He was so very proud to be from such a prestigious line. He would serve well.

He made his way to the first bedroom on the top floor and peered into it. Like the rest of the house, it was old and the walls were peeling, but with cobwebs and dirt everywhere. This simply would not do. He stepped inside, snapped his fingers, and a duster and broom appeared, sweeping the floor and cleaning off the furniture. In a matter of moments, the room was clean (though still old; not much he could do there). With a nod, he went to the next room, and the next room, and the next room, cleaning every single one of them.

When he finished, Soran looked down the staircase and marveled once more at his family. All in a line on the wall, the heads of his relatives were mounted, perfectly preserved in all their glory. And at the end of the line was his father's head. His father had told him stories of that line, and how his day would come, as well, to be mounted onto that wall and forever be a part of the house he belonged in. Soran skipped down the steps and his big eyes stared at the heads, reading the tiny inscriptions below them, easily missed by those who wished not to view the heads (finding them unpleasant to look at).

"Bacht. Harven. Mitsy. Romous. Vinny. Kreacher."

Soran aspired to one day be so glorious with his head on that wall. He would serve the house well, even while his master was gone. No matter what, he would be so loyal his heart would burn with its excess. His master would be pleased to see the house in such wonderful condition. Surely Soran would be rewarded greatly. Someday, he would be just as great and glorious and wonderful as his father and mother had been after Harry Potter had helped them. For his father, it had been fighting on the right side of the war. For his mother, it had been being free of her old master, only to gain Harry Potter as a master (as that is what happens when house elves get married and have offspring). His mother, Winky, would have loved to see him now, serving so well even while his master was gone from number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Honestly, Soran had never met his master Harry Potter, but that did not matter. As long as he kept to his duty, when his master returned, he would love what he came back to. That was Soran's purpose.

* * *

"Alright, I have the list here then. I believe it to be finished."

Ginny ripped the paper out of the lawyer's hand just as he finished his sentence. "No," she said to herself. Then louder to the others in the room, "No, this is all wrong! I must have _full_ custody of all the children. You can't separate them like this. That's not fair at all, to them. And as I said before, Harry isn't fit to care for them!" A quill popped into her hand and she began to make revisions once again to the magical binding contract the lawyer had written.

Harry simply sat in the chair opposite her, head held in his hands, begging for this torture to be over. For hours he had sat in the same chair, listening to Ginny argue with no one about what she would get after the divorce was complete. The lawyer had originally given them a list of major things they owned and just split it in half right down the page like the house, kids, and money was nothing but a piece of paper. Of course, Ginny had spoken up several times and asked the lawyer to rewrite the list, but he hadn't gotten it quite to her taste just yet. Harry wasn't arguing. She deserved it all after what he had done to her. He would take what little he was left with (probably enough to carry with him) and just sleep on a bench in the park. He felt awfully guilty about hurting Ginny, but not broken, like he had lost important love. That was what got him the most.

The lawyer finally spoke up to Harry. "Mr. Potter, you don't want to see your children at all? No custody..." he trailed off.

He simply shook his head. "Just let her have what she wants. I love my children, but they would be better with their mother."

Ginny had finished correcting the list and handed it back to the lawyer. He simply sighed.

"Then this is the final list?" Ginny nodded. "Alright then. I'll need your blood."

They both pricked their fingers and a small droplet of crimson appeared against their pale skin. The lawyer took one in each hand and smeared the droplet onto the list, which let a trail before disappearing, absorbed into the parchment.

"I now pronounce you, divorced." He pulled the list in two, one for Ginny and another for Harry.

Harry took his gently and looked it over, finding it no longer than he thought it would be.

_-Potter vault and all remaining money and valuables inside_  
-Any and all books  
-Anything owned before marriage( including: broom, inheritance from Dumbledore, inheritance from Black, etc.)

For the most part, he was surprised to see he was left his original vault. Ginny had, of course, taken the one they had opened together that was filled with most of their wealth. They had only kept Harry's original vault for emergency purposes, and because Harry could not bear to lose the vault his parents had owned. He was also a little confused as to why he had received all the books they had. While neither of them had been too keen on reading, they had a small library for their children and Hermione (when she visited with Ron and Rose). Now he was getting all the books. Where would he put them? And he got to keep all his inherited things, thank Merlin. He couldn't bear to part with anything sentimental to him like that. He would keep his broom, as well, meaning he could fly for as long as he wanted without having a care in the world. His remaining items were decent. He was thankful to Ginny.

Harry stayed seated in the chair just staring at the list, even long after Ginny had left. The lawyer, having dealt with many cases like this, let Harry stay there in his office while he filed some more paperwork. After a half hour or so, the lawyer looked up from his stack of papers and saw Harry, still sitting there, staring.

"Mr. Potter, after all this time, why are you still here?"

Being startled out of a trance he hadn't realized he was in, Harry jumped. "Bloody fu-…what?"

"Why are you still here, Mr. Potter?"

Harry scratched the side of his head. "Where else can I go? She took the house. I don't have any family. My friends probably won't approve of the divorce. They'll blame me. I'm not saying it's not my fault, because it definitely is, but I don't think I could stand staying in a house with my ex-wife's brother."

The lawyer sighed. Sometimes, he thought he was paid too much for his job, but in times like these, he felt sorely under paid. All the money in the world would not be enough for him to give relationship advice to newly divorced people. He was a lawyer, not a therapist.

"According to what information I have here," the lawyer was trying to be as professional as possible while still helping Harry out, "you still have another property."

"I…what?"

The lawyer scoffed. "You have another property, Mr. Potter. You inherited it from your godfather, Sirius Black, the escaped Azkaban criminal."

"He was _not_ a criminal, he was _framed_." Somewhere deep inside his gut, Harry felt himself come alive to his godfather's defense.

He was completely missing the point. "You have another residence! Go forth and…reside there!"

Harry stood. "I will," he said through his teeth, pulling out his wand and disapperating to number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Being alone in his office once more, the lawyer breathed with relief. That was his talent, as a lawyer. With a simple flow of words, purposeful or not, somehow he managed to get his way. If nothing else, he certainly had a knack for pissing people off enough to motivate them to do something. He truly felt at home in his job. This was the job he had been destined for. He was proud to perform it well, and so had his parents. This job was his life, and while it was sometimes not-so-enjoyable, he would have no other job. He didn't know what would happen to him, his wife, and his kids if he ever lost this job.

He supposed that would be the final blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! I'll be posting more chapters as soon as I can.


	3. A While Gone

For an hour or two, Harry had stared at the peeling wallpaper of his godfather's room. It was the only room in the dimly lit house that he could stand to be in with its decaying posters and Gryffindor theme. So much, it reminded him of what his godfather had gone through during his childhood, dealing with a houseful of Slytherin purebloods, being the only red and gold one among them. He did it because he disliked their ideals so much, and it brought them displeasure in seeing a relative being so different. He was sure his mother had faced the same problem, being the only witch in the family, having a sister who was jealous, calling her a freak. Why was it so hard for others to accept good people like his mother and godfather? All their lives they had to deal with being different.

Until, of course, they came to Hogwarts. That was the pride and joy of every hard-off wizard and witch, it seemed. Really, every sad sob story he had heard about someone's past was always brightened with the aspect of Hogwarts. The school had a special kind of magic that neither wizard nor witch could ever cast upon it. It was a place of help, of friendship, and teamwork; the beacon at the end of every dark tunnel that was his summer; the one place he could actually love studying (though at the time he didn't enjoy it, nowadays he would much rather study at Hogwarts). That school was everything to him. It was everything to every witch and wizard, no matter their background or sorted house.

For a moment, Harry considered becoming a teacher just to go back there again. What would he teach, Defense Against the Dark Arts? He had always had top grades in that class (except when undesirable teachers taught it). But even if he was perfect for the position, surely there was another teacher there already; he wouldn't want to take someone else's job to get one himself. During all his school years, the job had been cursed; he could try at the end of this year to see if the old teacher mysteriously is unable to do the job anymore. But taking a cursed job that he could only have for one year didn't seem like such a great idea. Still, it was an idea. And he would get to see his kids all the time. Ginny couldn't stop him from taking the job. It's not like he would have to take care of them, he would just see them, and teach them how to defend themselves. That wasn't a crime, was it? He would visit with Professor Patil, the current Headmistress, and see if the job was available.

_As a matter of fact,_ he thought to himself, _I can go right now._

Harry stood and headed downstairs over to the fireplace. In a jar, there was what appeared to be dust. He picked up a handful, and threw it into the fireplace. Green flames erupted and Harry spoke, "Hogwarts, Headmistress' Office," before placing his head inside.

"Oh hello, Harry. Long time no see." Padma Patil smiled down at him in the still so familiar office that once belonged to Albus Dumbledore. "What is the occasion?"

"I was wondering if I could come in."

"Of course. I'll get you a cup of tea." She vanished from Harry's vision.

Trying to be as graceful as possible (with little success) he stepped through the flames and emerged, dusty and covered in soot in her office. Try as he might have to brush off the dust and soot, he did not get it all off, and finally resorted to a quick cleaning spell.

"Here. Come sit." Padma gestured to the chair opposite her desk and sat in the throne like chair behind it. Now that Harry could see her in person, she looked so much older than she should be. He figured having a job as Headmistress could not be an easy one.

He made his way over and sat in the comfortable chair. He looked around and saw all the whizzing objects and little knick-knacks like those that had once been in Dumbledore's office, but much more vibrant and feminine. Noticing his eyes glancing about the room, Padma commented.

"I hadn't been in Dumbledore's office a lot. Just once, I think. I really liked it, so I decided that was how I wanted the room to look when I took the job. He helped me out with much of it himself." She smiled and looked up to Dumbledore's portrait on the wall.

"Harry, my dear boy, look how you've grown."

Harry smiled. "I'm not exactly a boy anymore." He looked to Padma. "How are things here going?" he asked casually.

"We're getting along. Lately there have been a few bumps in the road, mostly consisting of pranksters and certain children in Gryffindor who like to travel around late at night exploring the castle." Padma smirked at Harry.

"Oh really?" Harry could tell by the way she said it that she was speaking of his children. "James or Albus?"

"Both, actually, and Lily as well." She smiled. "No need to worry. Their exploration is harmless. Though I've heard, from a certain headmaster, that they have quite useful tools in hiding and navigating."

He chuckled a bit. "Yeah, from my own school years. I'm glad their having a bit of fun."

"James, though, really has taken after his uncles. His mischief is uncatchable, and I've no idea how he keeps getting ahold of so much Weasley's Wizard Wheezes merchandise. He even had some before his trip to Hogsmead this year. I must say, I'm impressed. However, he's been added to Sandel's list of trouble-makers." At Harry's confusion, she clarified. "Twidley Sandel is the new caretaker. Filch retired a while ago."

"Oh." Harry let his face melt into a smile. "Well it's good to know someone is keeping Fred and George's legacy alive."

Padma nodded. "Yes, and dear Albus is one of the top students in his year, second only to Rose Weasley."

"Wonderful."

"Now, what was it that you came here for?"

"Oh, right." Harry felt rather awkward. "Well, I was wondering how you were doing on professors."

Padma put two and two together; Harry was here for a teaching job because he had lost his other one as Head of Auror office. Being polite, she made no reference to his old job.

"Just the usual problems. Even after all these years, it seems the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is still cursed. Thankfully they haven't been in harm's way, but things always come up. Last year, the professor won a muggle trip around the world for two years, and said he couldn't pass it up. The year before was a relative was deathly ill, and so she left, sending me an owl sometime later in the summer of how she needed to find a rare sort of berry for a potion that would take some time and that the illness had spread to more than just her relative, so she needed quite a lot of them. As Headmistress, I never quite know what will happen to them next."

"Alright. Well, when your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is unable to stay next year, would you consider hiring me for the job? If only for one year."

Padma smiled. "Yes, of course. As soon as the professor this year resigns, which I'm almost positive will happen, I'll send for you."

"Great. Thank you."

"No, thank _you_ for taking the job. Not many people are volunteering for it, exactly. Taking a cursed job isn't very popular."

"What's the worst that can happen? I'm Harry Potter. I've handled worse."

She chuckled. "Very true."

"Well," Harry stood, "It was nice talking to you. Thank you for the tea." He bowed his head a bit in farewell.

He took a handful of Floo Powder from the mantel and tossed it into the Fireplace, stepping in and disappearing in the emerald flames that so matched the luminescence of his eyes.

* * *

_Dear James,  
How's school going, dear? I hope it's wonderful. Stay out of trouble, if you can. Study hard for your classes. Keep an eye on your siblings, especially Lily. Make sure they are behaving, as well._

_I know it's probably not the best to tell you this way, but I'm afraid your father and I have had a falling out. He got fired from his job, and ever since things have not exactly been going well between us. We've gotten a divorce. Don't panic, and don't worry. You'll still live with me back at the house, and so will Lily and Albus. I'm sure your father will visit occasionally. We may be divorced, but that doesn't mean we hate each other._

_I want you to break it to your siblings gently. Be kind in your words, and assure them everything is going to be alright, because it will be. I know it may not seem fair to you, but both your father and I agreed there was nothing else for us to do, and I want Lily and Albus to hear it in person, explained by someone they love. I wish you could have found out the same way, but I'll be easy on you if you'll be easy on me._

_All my love,  
Mom_

James read the note again, and the information began to really sink in. He had been thinking about it all day since the note had arrived for him today with his owl, Helios. Even through his Quidditch tournament, he had been distracted. His mother and father had gotten a divorce? _Are they mad? They can't do that without…without our permission. Can they?_ Inside himself, he felt unsure. They can't just get a divorce and say things will be alright. Yet here was a letter from his mother, saying exactly that. Best of all, he had to tell Albus and Lily. Sometimes, he hated being the oldest. He had "mature responsibilities" he didn't want. Life, to him, would be much easier if he could just hand them off to someone else.

Regardless, he sighed and pulled the old coin out of his pocket and sent a spell at it. The words at the bottom that had said, "Library," now said, "Common Room." He put the coin in his pocket and exited his room, heading down the many stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room.

In another room two floors down, Albus felt something heat up in his pocket. He pulled it out and found its words had changed early tonight. How were they going to go anywhere when everyone was still up? Dinner had just finished. No one was asleep yet.

"I'll be right back, guys," he said to his roommates, whom he had been chatting with about how the final Quidditch match had gone (Gryffindor slaughtering Slytherin, of course).

"Oh, alright," one said.

"Where you going, mate?"

Albus hurried out the door and ran down the stairs, finding Lily waiting at the bottom.

"Why is it so early, tonight?" she said quietly, so as not to be overheard. "There's no way we can go anywhere right now. Teachers are still up."

"I know, I know. Have you seen James yet?"

"If I had, I would be asking him that question instead of you."

Albus sighed. "Always the one with a smart mouth." He looked around through the crowd in the Common Room, ignoring his sister's look. He found that many were still celebrating their victory, which had been seized by none other than James. He found it odd that he was not already down here, celebrating with everyone else on the team. Where could he be?

"James!" someone yelled out from the crowd. Everyone turned their heads to the stairs where James was emerging.

"Come celebrate with us!"

"Yeah! Tell us how you caught the Slytherin seeker with the bludger so Teddy could get the snitch!"

James looked into the crowd and put on an apologetic smile. "Actually, I have to do something else. I'll be here tomorrow, though, if you guys really want to hear the story."

"Aw, come on, James!"

"Just a real quick story."

"Please?"

He shook his head. "It's really important. Can't put it off." He found his brother and sister at the bottom of the stairs and went to meet them.

"You're not _babysitting_ , are you?"

Now usually, James would laugh this off. He was a carefree kind of guy, doing most things for his (and other's) entertainment. Tonight, however, it was insulting that someone would call anything this serious "babysitting."

"It's none of your business, Franklin."

His friends and teammates seemed taken aback by his biting tone. James grabbed both his siblings by their wrists and pulled them right out through the portrait hole with everyone staring.

Just before they exited, Franklin replied, "I was only kidding, James. I didn't mean to-"

James closed the portrait in his face. He ran his hands through his hair and began walking to the nearest empty classroom. Of course, his friends were not the only ones concerned with his quick change of mood.

"James, what's going on?" Lily followed quickly behind her brother.

"Is everything alright?" Albus pulled on his brother's sleeve, but lost his grip when James yanked it away.

James didn't say a word until they were all inside a deserted, dusty classroom, and the door was locked behind them. When he faced them, he was breathing hard, trying to contain his frustration for the sake of passing the information.

"James?"

In his mind, he could imagine how they would take it. He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.

"Come on, then, spit it out."

He had thought his mother and father had loved each other. In his childish mind, they would have been together forever. He hadn't ever bothered to think otherwise. He had been so sure…

"James!"

Instead of meeting their eyes, James looked to the ceiling. "Mom and Dad got a divorce."

Everything was quiet for a moment. And then like shattering glass, Lily was yelling.

"You're lying! This isn't funny, James! You can't just say things like that!"

"I'm not joking, Lily." James pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to Albus, who read it out loud completely before saying anything.

"How can they do this?"

Lily had a watery gleam in her eyes and took to punching the wall beside her. "How can she say everything's alright?! Everything is _not_ alright!" Hot tears poured down her face. "That's not fair…"

Albus continued to stare at the letter. This couldn't be a prank. This was his mother's handwriting. There's no way James could forge that. And his mother would never go along with this joke. Which would mean this was real. But how could it be real? His parents loved each other, and they always had. There was no way…and his dad had lost his job? But his father was so good at his job. There was no possible way this was real…and yet…

Albus looked to James, searching for signs of laughter or humor, but there was only anger and sadness. He could tell he was trying to hold it all inside, trying to be strong for him and Lily. It made Albus feel even more grieved to think about how much his older brother wanted to act like this didn't break his heart too.

Lily cried, sobbed even, letting her anger-filled punches slacken, and finally stop altogether. She wanted to be mad. She wanted to blame her parents. It was their fault. They decided to get the divorce. They decided that their children were not important enough for them to stay together. They let their relationship fall and crack into pieces. But she could never be truly mad at her parents.

Albus took his shaking sister into his arms. His mind could not wrap around this. There was no way this was possible. It couldn't be. His parents loved each other. His mother and father…they wouldn't do this, right? He could feel his shirt growing wet with Lily's tears.

"It's going to be alright, Lily. Mom said so. We're going to live at the house with Mom. She said Dad will visit us sometimes; they don't hate each other, she said. And we'll be here most of the year, so we'll just…forget about it, sometimes. At least we still have each other. Nothing will ever change that."

He could hardly feel the words he was saying.

"We'll have to stick together more. And when we have problems, we'll come talk to one another. Dad may be gone, but I'll still be here for you. And so will James. We'll help you with your homework, and make sure you're doing alright. In fact, it's probably better this way. If Mom and Dad weren't happy together, we can't force them to stay married. We've got to think about them, too. We can't be entirely selfish."

Listening to his brother's words, James felt much better. _How odd,_ he thought, _that Albus is better at helping Lily get over this than I am. Maybe Mom should have sent_ him _the letter instead._ In the back of his mind, he felt bad. He couldn't hold himself together long enough to help his brother and sister? SO badly, he had to stop himself from punching the walls and sending spells everywhere so he could watch the classroom be destroyed like he felt his life was. But Albus was right. They would have to be there for each other. And he would be there. Always. He swore it.

"Yeah, Lil. We're going to be strong. We can't stop this, so we'll just make up for it. We'll look out for each other. I'll…I'll even stop setting off stuff in the halls and pulling tricks on Sandel so I won't be so busy."

Lily looked up. "But you _love_ pulling tricks on Sandel."

James smiled somberly, his brown eyes gleaming. "Yes, but with Dad gone, someone has to make sure you practice to make the Quidditch team next year."

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she nodded. "Alright."

Albus grinned at his brother, then patted his sister's head softly. "So you'll be there for us if we need you?"

"Of course I will," Lily said. " _Someone_ has to pull your head from your books long enough to eat dinner." She half smiled. "If things aren't alright, we'll make them alright."

James nodded. "Right."

Holding his sister close, Albus agreed. "We'll make life alright."


	4. Turmoil to Overcome

All around him, there was darkness. For what could be miles and miles, or merely inches before his face, there was just black, almost as if he had fallen into a pool of ink. He felt weightless; maybe he really was in a pool of ink. He couldn't move, as much as he tried. His body simply floated along, nothing touching solid ground. Was he actually dead this time? No, that wasn't possible.

In the corner of his peripherals, there was something else. It was not black, but…light, maybe? Yes, it came closer and he could tell it was, in fact, light. A screen, of sorts. His hand floated up, neither against his will or with it, and his fingertips just barely brushed against its smooth surface. A whirl of colors appeared, and took shape before his very eyes.

On the ground was a woman, very much in a blur, but becoming clearer by the second. As Harry gazed upon her, he realized she had very red hair. For a moment, he thought of Ginny, but soon realized, that was not who it was at all.

"Please, not him. Just take me instead! Spare him! Have mercy!"

Another figured appeared, blurred just as the first had been. "There is no need to spill more magical blood than is necessary. Simply step aside and your life will be spared."

The woman's face grew angered. "You monster! I will never let you have my son!"

Now in much better view, a dark cloak spoke. "Very well, then. You shall die just as your husband did."

A tear ran down her face as she stood and shielded what seemed to be nothing behind her on the screen. "I won't let you take my son!"

" _ **Avada Kedavra!**_ "

The blackness around him instantly became bright green, and the screen revealed a new feminine figure.

"No, no, this is all wrong! I must have _full_ custody of all the children. You can't separate them like this. That's not fair at all, to them. And as I said before, Harry isn't fit to care for them!"

A table became visible, and three figures sat around it; the lawyer at the head, Ginny at one side, and the black-cloaked figure at the other.

"There is no need to spill more magical blood than is necessary. Simply hand over the children and your life will be spared."

With defiance in her face, Ginny took the paper and began scribbling her corrections upon it.

"Very well, then. You shall die just as your husband did."

Ginny handed the lawyer the list. "Then this is the final list?" Ginny nodded. "Alright then. I'll need your blood."

"And blood you shall have!" screamed the hooded figure. " _ **Avada Kedavra!**_ "

Two screams rang into the air of complete and utter terror. One, he had heard before in his nightmares many times; the other he could place in a heartbeat.

"Mom! Ginny!"

The hooded figure cackled and everything around Harry went black again. He struggled against whatever restraints kept his arms and legs from moving.

"Ginny!"

With a barely visible distinction, the hooded figure appeared before Harry in the darkness, cackling just as he had before.

"Ginny! Where is Ginny!"

"She cannot save them now. No one can save them. Not even the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry fell off the side of Sirius's bed, screaming at the top of his lungs with tears running down his face, tangled up in the matted sheets attempting to fight something that was not there.

Once again, Harry had gotten little sleep.

Almost all of summer had passed, and he had yet to learn how to cure his nightmares. He had spent every minute of the last 2 months looking through book after book for something to help him sleep without nightmares. Unfortunately for him, there were no potion books in his possession. Even if there were, it was highly unlikely that he could brew anything he would need correctly. He sighed and picked up the nearest book off the stack and opened it up and began reading. If anything, he hoped the boring textbook would put him to sleep in no time.

With a pop, Soran appeared in the room. Harry gave a jolt.

"For Merlin's sake, Soran…" he held his hand over his chest. "You can't just pop in like that. You'll give me a bloody heart attack."

Soran's big round eyes met Harry's. "Soran is sorry, Master Potter. Soran will go off and punish himself."

"No! That's…that's quite alright, Soran. No need to do that."

His bat-like ears perked up. "Would Master Potter like anything?"

Harry sighed and looked to the window. The blinds were holding back the light the room so eagerly craved to absorb. "Breakfast, I suppose."

Soran bowed low. "As Master Potter wishes." And with a pop, he was gone.

So far, his life had been miserable. Since the time he had moved in, never once had Ginny replied to his request to come and visit. He had sent it through Patronus, so he was sure she got it, but never had he seen even a hint of her horse Patronus. He had given up on that after the first two weeks, and taken instead to attempting to get some sleep. So far, he had been highly unsuccessful, but this was something he could not just give up on, as the problem presented itself every night.

"Here is Master Potter's breakfast!"

"Oh. Thank you, Soran."

Soran once again bowed so his nose touched the floor. "It is my honor, Master Potter," and popped away.

Secretly in his mind, he had been awaiting a certain letter from Hogwarts, but none had come. Inside this house, Harry felt terribly cut off from the world. No wonder his godfather had tried so desperately to get out of here when he could. He wished that he, too, could be able to escape this house without anyone knowing it was him. But even as an animagus, Harry was instantly recognizable to the world.

How he wished to be at Hogwarts again. In the school library, surely he could find something to help him sleep better, maybe even someone to help him do it. But he knew if he ever returned to Hogwarts, he would be a teacher, or merely a visitor. How he wished, with all his heart, to be young again, and explore the deepest secrets of Hogwarts once more…

_Magical portraits are a type of sentient artifact, and are common in the Wizarding world. The subjects of portraits are sentient, can speak to and with people on the outside, and they can move into other portraits in the same building, as well as visit their own portraits in other places._

He hadn't realized he had actually been reading something, but now that he had, he was rather interested in what it said. Magical portraits? That was surely something he would like to read about.

The more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. He could have a portrait of someone he loved to talk to. What wouldn't he give to be able to talk to his mother, or his father, or godfather.

He would get one made for them as soon as possible.

* * *

Albus sat by the window in the study, looking out at the garden he and his mother used to tend to together. It wasn't that he missed tending to it as much as he missed spending time with his mother.

With no income from Harry, Ginny had no other choice but to get a higher paying job. She became an secretary for the Ministry of Magic (one of many), filing paperwork here and there, showing visitors which way to head, which floor they would want to get off on, and who to talk to for certain things. It paid alright for the time being, as they had some money in the Potter-Weasley vault still. They would make it through.

Lily had taken to reading in a comfy chair in a corner and James, who was not so fond of books, was watching Albus, debating whether he would try to push him away or not if he asked what was wrong. It was worth a shot, wasn't it? Plus, he had vowed to himself to care for his siblings. He couldn't slack off now when they needed him most.

Of all the Potter children, James had been altered the most by the whole ordeal. All summer, James had been all work and no play. He had gotten letters from all his friends, asking him to visit and whatnot, but he ignored them all. He wouldn't admit it, but he was frightened. He had always believed that no matter how many friends come and go, family would always be there. Now that his dad was gone, and willingly too, he wasn't so sure the remainder of his family would stay. What would he do if something happened to his brother or sister? He couldn't bear to think of it. The Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise underneath his bed had been untouched, as had the Marauder's Map and invisibility cloak. He had grown up much faster than was healthy.

He stood and made his way over to Albus, deciding his brother needed him.

"What'cha looking at, Al?"

"Just the garden."

James looked out, too, and saw the flowers looked wilted and the bushes were beginning to turn brown. "It's starting to dry out."

Albus nodded with a sigh. "Remember how I used to tend to it with Mom? She would pull out the weeds and I would water. She would trim the hedges and I would get rid of any gnomes…" They watched at two gnomes ran across the garden for no particular reason. "I miss Mom being home."

"We all do, Al."

Lily, who had been listening to the conversation since it had broken the silence, now came over. "Well, let's go tend to it now, then. We can't just let it die out. Brown leaves aren't very nice to look at."

With that, they all smiled. They split up the jobs, and all took to them with pride. Albus pulled the weeds, James watered and trimmed, and Lily got rid of the gnomes.

Lily, who was working on outwitting the gnomes, caught them all on a corner and began tossing them out one by one. The last gnome flew into the air until it was over their fence, then promptly fell.

"Good job, Lily. Maybe you'll be as smart as Al."

Lily sighed. "Yeah, maybe in some things, but not all. I'm not very good in Potions."

James chuckled. "You're not the first. Lots of people aren't good at potions. I'm not. Dad wasn't. I don't even think Mom was that talented."

Albus nodded. "It's supposedly a Gryffindor curse. Professor Nott says that Gryffindors are 'too arrogant and too impatient' to do well in Potions. I can barely pull by with an E."

"An E? I can barely get an A." Lily tossed another gnome that had been hiding in the bushes over the fence.

James chuckled, "I usually get a D, but I managed to pull off an A on my O.W.L. How that's possible, I have no idea."

"Oh yeah. You already took your O. -Were they hard?"

James shrugged. "They probably won't be for you. For me, however, they were pretty bad; especially potions. I thought for sure I would get a T."

"Well what N.E. are you taking?"

"I talked to Professor Longbottom. He told me I could take Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, and Divination." He looked to his brother and sister. "I recommend not taking Divination. It may seem like an easy class at first, but you just basically end up making up bad things that will happen and get a good grade for it. It's not really worth your time. I think I'll go with every other N.E.W.T but that one."

Albus nodded. "Good I didn't pick that, then. I decided to take Arithmancy instead."

James pulled a few branches from the hedge and scoffed. "I would fail miserably in that class."

"Well, all the gnomes are gone. For now." Lily dusted herself off.

"Yeah, I've watered all the flowers, and the hedges weren't in need of a big trim."

Albus got up. "Weeds are gone."

James smiled. "Alright. It seems we've finished up here. How about we go inside and…" he thought for a moment, "have a glass of lemonade."

With a big smile revealing stunning white teeth, Lily said, "That sounds perfect."

They all made their way back inside, Albus taking one last look at the recovering garden before stepping inside and following his siblings to the kitchen.

"So you're going to be taking Defense Against the Dark Arts for one of your N.E.W.T classes?"

After pouring Lily a nice glass of lemonade, James looked up. "Yeah."

"Aren't you worried? That class has had a different teacher every year. Nothing in that class is constant. You could be ahead this year, and then behind next year."

Considering this, James put down the pitcher of lemonade that they had made themselves the muggle way (because their father had told them long ago it tasted better). "Well, I suppose. But I think Professor Edson was pretty good."

Yeah," Lily agreed. "Maybe he'll stay another year?"

"There's no way. That job is cursed. It always has been. Even when Mom and Dad went to school."

"It's pretty unlikely that he'll stay."

"You don't think they'll run out of professors, do you?"

"No. Professor Patil is smart. She _was_ a Ravenclaw, afterall. She probably has a long list going on for decades of wizards to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"True."

"Yeah, see? No need to worry." James picked up the pitcher once more and poured his little brother a glass of lemonade. "I'm sure we'll make it just fine. We always have, and we always will."

Albus sipped her drink, finding it quite bitter for his tastes. "It needs more sugar."

James sighed. "Dad always made this best. He never really told us how much of everything to put in." He picked up a spoon and proceeded to shovel more sugar into the pitcher.

They all watched as James stirred the lemonade, all having the same thought. Lily voiced it though the silence.

"It's been a while since we've seen him. Do you think he'll visit sometime?"

Albus put an arm around his sister. "I'm sure he'll be around soon enough. He's probably really busy with a new job, like Mom."

"I hope he's not lonely."

They all stood in silence. The air had grown a bit somber. James put down the spoon and looked to his siblings. "Let's find out."

* * *

"Alright, Monsieur Potter. I 'ave yoor portrait ready."

Harry almost stopped breathing in his anticipation. "It's done?"

"One moore spell, and it vill be completed." The painter smiled and turned the canvas around for Harry to see. "It vill need a frame, oui?"

Harry could only stare.

"I 'ave some vonderful framez in my shop. Vould yoo like to purchase one?"

His words had gone to the wind, mouth hanging open in shock.

"Monsieur Potter? Vould yoo like a frame? Monsieur Potter?"

All the air in his lungs left. _No, this wasn't…I hadn't asked for…how in Merlin could he…_

"Monsieur Potter!"

Harry jumped and his mind finally seemed to form logically phrases once more. "This isn't what I asked for! I asked for my godfather!"

The painter looked to the canvas. "This iz not yoor godfather?"

With an incredulous look, Harry replied, "Not even close! That's…That's Tom Riddle!"

Of all things, the painter looked confused. "Tom Riddle?"

"Yes! Tom Riddle!"

He didn't seem to understand. Something must have gotten lost in their communication. He did have a pretty heavy accent.

"I 'ave painted ze person wrong?" Harry nodded, and the painters face appeared disgusted. "Désastre! Completely affreux!" The painter set off a leash of French words that Harry did not understand.

It didn't seem possible. How in Merlin's pants could someone mistake Sirius Black for Tom Riddle? He stared at the portrait, seeing the familiar young face of the early Voldemort.

"Can you just start over?"

The painter shot him a glare. "Start ohver? No! I cannot zimply start ohver! The painting haz been done! It cannot joos vamoose!"

Harry sighed and rubbed his temples. "Alright, alright. Just…finish it. I'll pay for it." As soon as he could, he would go and find a different painter- someone who would understand the difference between "godfather" and "mortal enemy."

The painter cast a spell and then looked at the painting in silence, simply staring until a voice was heard that rattled Harry's bones.

"I knew I should have asked to be left alone before I died. If I had to suffer through it, might as well leave me there in my own pain instead of showing me the world I can no longer exist in."

With a grumble, Harry put is head into his hands. _Just brilliant…_ He had heard that same voice in his latest nightmare, and probably every nightmare before, as well.

"It iz fini." The painter clapped his hands together, seeming to forget the mishap altogether. "Now for ze payment."

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled out the money. "I can't at least get a discount?"

The painter narrowed his eyes. "I'll zrow in a free frame."

"That's it?"

While he felt insulted, the painter projected this feeling. "You zay zat like it iz not of value. My framez are of pure silver! None ozher!"

"Yes, fine. I'll take the free frame, then."

"Magnifique! Zat will be tventy galleons."

Without any further complaints, Harry handed him the money and the painter left. He didn't understand how exactly this had happened. He had talked to the painter about whom he wanted to paint before the canvas had even been summoned. He had given him a picture and everything. How in hell could he have messed this up? It wasn't possible, in Harry's mind.

Harry looked over to the unusually silent portrait of Tom Riddle that now was leaning against the wall on the floor. The brown eyes had been looking about the room until they had felt Harry's gaze, at which point they slowly turned to meet it. Harry sighed as he noticed that the painter had actually left, not just out of the room, but altogether.

"That painter ripped me off twice. He left without giving me the frame he promised."

Tom, an aloof expression on his face, took to looking around the room again. "I take it, from what information I have gathered in such a little period of existence, that you did not intend to have an enchanted portrait that contained me inside it. I assure you, the feeling of unwanting is mutual. However, now that I am here, I intend to see what has happened since my…" he chose his words carefully, "unfortunate murder."

Harry could have almost laughed. "You're joking, right?"

"Not at all." Tom's face was collected, almost charming. "My death was unsightly. I'm sure the world was highly affected."

"Oh yes, it was. Wizards can actually live in peace now that they don't go to sleep worrying about the life of their loved ones who happened to be muggle-borne."

He narrowed his eyes and looked Harry over. "Do I know you?"

Incredulous, Harry stared at Tom. "Do you know me? Of course you know me! You were obsessed with killing me for half of your life. You killed my parents, friends, professors." Harry lifted up his hair to reveal his scar, "You tried to murder me as a baby, which didn't turn out so well for you."

Tom's lips curled into a malicious smile. "Ah, Harry Potter. What a turn of events to see you once more."

 


	5. Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Harry's point of view instead of 3rd person.

I looked back to the man who used to have crimson eyes who stood in the portrait. Before I could stop myself, my thoughts sprang to my tongue.

"What does it feel like to make a horcrux?"

Tom let one eyebrow rise. "You're trying to create horcruxes? I never expected that of you…"

I almost fell off the bed jumping in shock. "What?! No! Never! I was just curious!"

He sized me up, almost as if he expected me to be lying. "It has a certain degree of pain equal to the Cruciatus Curse, but much more concentrated without really being able to place where the pain originates. It feels exactly like you would expect slitting your soul to feel like."

"That's great, thanks." Scrunching my lips together, another question came to mind. "Why did you spilt your soul into sevenths? I mean, you actually made eight pieces, since I was one, but you meant to make seven. Why?"

With much aloofness, he simply stated, "Just a lucky number, I suppose."

"Mhm," I wasn't quite sure what to make of that answer, but didn't linger on it longer as more questions, ones I had thought of so long ago, sprang to my head. "Why did you hate the orphanage so much? Did they treat you badly, or something?"

Once again, I was measured with his eyes. "Is there any particular reason you are asking me these questions?"

I shrugged. "Just curious. When else would I have asked them? Surely not when I was fighting you. And you can ask me questions, too, if you want. I'm sure you've wondered how I was able to defeat you eight times before I turned 18. Or how I died and came back to life."

"Yes…how _did_ you come back to life?"

I smirked. "Well, when you killed me, you killed a part of yourself. While I was dead, I talked to Dumbledore. I don't really remember what he said- something about how my mom sacrificed herself and you took my blood for your new body in the cemetery- but he told me I could go back, so I did. Not long after you killed me, actually. Mrs. Malfoy lied to you when she said I was dead. I just pretended until the right moment came."

There was silence as he took in my story.

"Now back to my question: Why did you hate the orphanage?"

Though he looked calm, his voice was piercing. "How did you know I went to an orphanage?"

"Dumbledore had this nifty pensive filled with memories about your past that he showed me."

He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a growl and a hiss. He didn't look particularly happy to be sharing the information, but at last, he said "Every day I had to live with the burden that I would forever be an alien while there. Hogwarts was the only place I could thrive. And thrive I did…"

I couldn't help but scoff. "That's it? I grew up sleeping in a cupboard, with my aunt and uncle who despised magic, thinking my parents had died in a car crash. Once I was told I was a wizard and knew the actual story of how they were _murdered_ by a dark lord, who shall remain nameless, and that I miraculously survived this attack as a one-year-old. Every year I would defeat that dark lord and be a hero, only to be sent back to that horrible place where I was neglected, beat up by my pig of a cousin, and thought of as a freak. My aunt was just jealous of my mother the whole time. The only reason I stayed with her was because she was a blood relative."

When I finished, Tom merely sighed. "I don't recall asking for a sob story. Unfortunately for you, I am not one to sympathize."

"I didn't expect as much. Still…" I rolled my eyes, "I hope you realize you made my childhood worse than yours."

"Good," he said with a glare. "Maybe next time a dark lord attempts murder, you will simply die instead of being so damned annoying."

I almost laughed at his showing of frustration. _Maybe I should keep around, then. It would be fun to annoy him further._ Lovely, mischievous thoughts filled my mind.

"You know, Dumbledore thinks you're incapable of love because your mother used a love potion on your dad. He never really loved her."

"Love? It's completely useless. It only poses as an unnecessary obstacle."

"You _would_ say that." I smirked. "What you still don't realize is that's how I defeated you."

"Dumbledore's _notions_ are highly flawed in their logic and intelligence." Every consonant was well defined, wanting to put me on edge. But I was having too much fun.

"Oh really? So you think I was able to defeat you because I was a better wizard?"

He hissed. "Impossible. Certainly not."

"Well, I obviously had help from _something_ then."

"I refuse to believe that _love_ had any part to play."

"What else could it have been? Better magic? More courage? _Superior knowledge?_ "

His calm façade was gone. "You are nothing but a filthy blood traitor-"

"Says the wizard with a muggle father who never really loved his mother, and left her to have a baby alone…"

"…childish, immature, _insolent_ …"

"Oh hush! I only tease because you don't believe in love."

His brown eyes flamed. "Love is not a form of magic. One cannot simply cast a protection spell so powerful it rebounds the killing curse!"

"Sure it is, because that's how it happened."

Tom gave me a cold look. "You've been brainwashed by that fool Dumbledore."

I was about to retort back, but had nothing to say. Was it wrong to believe all of what Dumbledore had said? An odd moment of silence passed in the air between us, awkward in nature. In it, I felt childish. Here I was, taunting a dead villain like I was in school all over again. How old was I? 12? I quickly decided to change the subject.

"You know, ever since you cursed the position, there has been a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher every year. Hogwarts may start running out of wizards for the job."

"I did not curse it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So all these years of having a new professor has just been a coincidence that happened to occur after you were rejected for the job?"

"Precisely."

I rolled my eyes. "Somehow, that's not so logical."

Tom's face grew more viewable as he calmed and threw on a smile. For a moment, I thought he actually looked like a normal person. "Well, if they are still in need of professors, I would be willing."

Sarcasm imminent, I said, "Oh yes, I'm sure every student would love to be taught to defend the dark arts by the man who used to be the most evil wizard of all time."

A dark gleam came into his eyes and all human-ness vanished. I didn't understand how possible it was to contort one's face with so little and go from handsome to monstrous. "Who says I'm not still?"

If Tom had been a wizard and not a picture, I would have been _much_ more intimidated. "I'm pretty sure I killed you, so that would be me. Plus, you live inside a canvas. Hard to teach magic when you can't do it yourself."

Tom said nothing in reply.

"What? No retort? You're no fun."

He rolled his eyes. "Fun? Oh yes, I'm sure that is how _everyone_ describes a conversation with Lord Voldemort."

"Talking in third person? Just a bit arrogant, don't you think?"

With a moment's thought, Tom replied with careful wording, "There's a difference, Harry Potter, between arrogance and living up to reputation. The reputation I created for myself was as the most evil of wizards in all of history, and all I required was vicious henchmen to surround myself with and the deaths of those who crossed my path."

"Oh, don't forget a prophesied boy to defeat you. That makes you all the more evil."

Tom looked off into the distance, probably remembering good times of killing muggles and procuring fear in the hearts of many by only speaking his name. Then suddenly, there was a switch in his face, as if something clicked.

"I do suppose you are correct in saying my time as Voldemort is done, young Potter." The light caught his eyes in a way that they almost looked orange for a moment.

"Young? I'm 37 years old. I'm older than you are."

"I am 92 years of age, as of last December."

"You're painted younger."

He opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, an owl tapped at the window. I went and opened the window, letting the familiar owl in. I had bought this owl.

"A letter for young Harry Potter? From the mudblood and blood traitor friends, I assume."

"I'm not young! And it's from my son."

Tom's eyebrows rose. "You have a son?"

"Yes! I'm 37! I was married! I have _three_ kids, actually! I'm _not_ young!"

Tom raised an eyebrow at me. "You _were_ married, not currently married?"

My chest suddenly burned with anger. "It's none of your business!" I looked back down at the letter, feeling my heart sink. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen James, or even his owl, Helios. I'm sure he wondered where I was, since I haven't visited at all. I bet Lily had taken the news hard, and I hadn't been there to comfort her. Poor Albus, second in his year, must be faced with something he couldn't understand, for once. I hoped dear James was trying to cheer them up with all his shenanigans. They needed something to take their minds off this…

"Are you just going to stare at the letter? Do you think it will open on its own?"

_Now look who's being childish…_ I took a deep breath, and opened the letter. Right away, I saw that the parchment had a few wet spots on it that smelt very much like citrus. I smiled.

_Dear Dad,  
We haven't heard from you at all since you and mom got a divorce. Are you doing alright? Where are you even staying?_

_Today, I took Albus and Lily outside to tend to the garden. Usually mom would help us, but she's been busy working. We tried making lemonade like you showed us, but we didn't make it right, it was bitter. I added some more sugar, but that didn't really make it any sweeter. You always made it the best._

_School is going to start soon. I told mom to drop us off at Rose's house and that Hermione and Ron would take us to King's Cross so she wouldn't have to take off work. She agreed. Could you come and see us off? We really miss you._

_Sincerely,  
James, Albus, and Lily_

_P.S. Sorry for the stains. Lily spit out her lemonade all over the parchment. It's really not very good, at all._

At the end, I found myself with tears threatening in the back of my eyes and a smile on my lips. I missed them, too.

"Soran!"

The elf popped in, bowing. "Yes, Master Potter?"

"I need some parchment, a quill, and some ink, please."

Soran snapped his fingers, and the objects appeared.

"Thank you, Soran."

"Anytimes, Master Potter." The elf popped away.

I picked up the parchment and stared a moment, thinking of what I could say. I wanted to say so much.

"At a loss for words, Harry Potter?"

I jumped. I had almost forgotten I now had a portrait of Tom Riddle.

"Are you scared of a painting?" Tom was the one having too much fun, now. "Harry Potter, I evoke fear inside you, even after my death." He chuckled.

"Oh, be quiet." I looked back down at my parchment and felt that I was, in fact, at a loss for words (don't tell Tom; I would never live it down). _I think I will go and see them off for the new school year. It would be the only way I could, since Ginny hasn't replied to any of my letters. Wow…she's been so busy she can't even spend time with the kids? I'd say they could come stay with me a while, but first off, this house is very drab, and second, I now have my mortal enemy in portrait form. I'd hate to think what Tom would say when he saw my children. Probably scare them….bloody bastard…_ Whilst cursing Tom, an idea popped into my head (which goes to show that cursing can't be _all_ bad). I began writing at once.

_Dear James, Albus, and Lily,  
I miss you all, too. I would have come to visit, but your mother must be so busy with her work that she has not found the time to reply and schedule a day and time. She could even possibly be waiting for a day that she has off to invite me over. Whatever the reason, it won't be long before I see you. I promise._

_First off, I will meet you at King's Cross to see you off. It's been a while since I've been, and I am dying to see you all, even if only for a few moments before you head off to school for the year. I also happen to have an idea of my own. Be cautious with the object I have attached to this letter; it's sharp around the edges and easy to cut yourself on._ _I learned that the hard way. I can't really visit you with it, but we can talk through it. Maybe I can even see what went wrong with your lemonade. Just say my name into it, and you'll appear in the mirror I have. I'll work on making you a mirror that isn't just a shard and get it to you before you leave to Hogwarts._

_Don't worry about me. I've been doing fine, living in my godfather's old house. It's the one I told you about in the stories of my years at Hogwarts; the Grimmauld Place. Really drab, but I have a house elf, Soran, and plenty of books to keep me busy._

_All my love,  
Dad_

I dashed over quickly to the old mokeskin pouch I still had, pulled out the shard of the two-way mirror I had always kept inside it. I looked into it and saw my face, and I remembered all the moments I had laid my eyes on this shard to find twinkling blue eyes staring back at me. All those years ago, Aberforth had passed to me his mirror (or really, Sirius's mirror) in his will, making it just as prized to me as my invisibility cloak. Both of them held so many memories, almost as if they had been on a separate adventure before coming into my possession. I prized them with all my heart. And now, they were passing down to my children.

I carefully wrapped the shard into the parchment and sent the letter away with Helios. The owl playfully nibbled on my fingers before spreading its wings and taking flight, soaring right through the window and out into the bright daylight that never seemed to make it inside this house.

"Harry, if I may address you by your first name, as I am of no threat to you any longer, would you mind filling me in on what you have been up to since I departed?"

A moment passed where I questioned my hearing. Had Tom Riddle actually acted polite to me? He called me by my first name, said he was no longer a threat, asking me about my personal life. Where did the Tom Riddle I was talking to earlier go, and what did this new Tom do to him to be able to shut him up?

"Uh…what?"

Tom kept his face calm, but if I didn't know any better, I would say his brown eyes crackled like flame. "You said I could ask you questions, and so I am. What have you been doing since my… _defeat_?" He said the last word with utter disgust, as if acid had been poured on his tongue, or used soap to wash his mouth.

"I've…made a life for myself, I guess. Trying to be a normal wizard."

"I see. Made a life for yourself…and this life included what, exactly?"

"Well…a nice house, kids, a loving wife, a good job that I enjoyed; just a life I would enjoy living."

With eyes scanning the room, Tom gave his input. "You need to work on the 'nice house' part of that list. Even I would not be caught dead in this house. It lacks…light."

I rolled my eyes. "Well thank you so much for pointing that out. Yes, I know this isn't a nice house. I've…sort of ruined my life recently. I had all those things, but… I guess I just let them all slip away." Fuzzy thoughts came into my mind of the one moment that changed my whole world. "I don't even know how it occured, really. I don't remember it at all. I used to be Head Auror, but something happened and I lost my job. From there, I lost my grip and let the other things just slip through my fingers." I stared at my hands like they really had let my life fall away without making a lunge for the perfection they had once held. "First my job, then my wife. She took the house. She had custody of the kids and hasn't let me visit them yet, but I'll make sure I don't lose them. I don't think I could take that."

I felt so lost. I had been since that fateful day. From there, I didn't know what to do with myself. I had once had my perfect life, and then it was all just gone in a few fuzzy moments. That day that had been the start to my fall, the final peak before the decent, the beginning of my end.

And I couldn't even remember what happened.

Without a purpose, I had lost the will to find a replacement job. I just let myself begin to decay. My mind was unraveling. I was angry at the world for doing such a terrible thing to me when once I had been so lucky. Half of me had been fearful to tell others about my feelings, and the other held it inside only until Ginny offered her help. I released my anger out at her when she didn't deserve it. When I had finally realized this, I didn't want the same thing to happen to my kids. Somehow, I no longer trusted myself. That tends to happen, I guess, when you get fired for accidental murder and can't recall a moment of it.

"Your wife is keeping your children from you? Why not take them back by force? Or simply just forget about them. It would save you much trouble in the end, I assure you." Though he had spoken in an airy tone, casual and light and generally charming, it had the effect of being growled through sharpened teeth with a wish of blood to be spilt. He was a monster.

"I can't just…how could you say something like that?" _Is it even possible for a person to feel no sympathy?_

"I only speak honestly. If you wish to achieve greatness in your life once more, your children will only be a nuisance."

"Look, I know you don't understand the whole love thing, but saying that I should forget about my children to achieve higher in my life is selfish and…horrible. They are my whole world! They're…" I thought of how to explain the feeling of parenthood to someone who didn't feel normal human emotions. In a way, it was like explaining colors to a person born blind. "…they're my own flesh and blood. When I'm gone, they will be the next generation to carry on the greatness I taught them. I cared for them, and taught them, and learned from them. I love them and hope, in the future, they have a life without the mistakes I've made. There's no possible way for me to just forget them."

With a quizzical look, Tom replied, "Your heirs are _that_ important to you? But only the eldest will receive your inheritance and carry on your legacy. The other two are nothing."

I balled my hands into fists. _He is so frustrating. How can he not understand?_ "I don't care about inheritance and legacy. I'm not a snob, pureblood! I just want my children to live a happy life. I don't get how you can't understand this."

I stalked out of the room, feeling my face grow intensely red with anger. _Him and his stupid words! Why doesn't he understand? It's really not that difficult!_ My steam slowly trickled away as I reached the bottom of the steps. With no idea where I had planned to go in this house with nothing to do, I just stopped and thought about the conversation I had just walked away from.

_I shouldn't be angry. It's sad, really, that he can't understand how love feels._ Just as I had all those years ago, I pitied Tom Riddle for his sad past. His father under love potion; his mother ridiculed by her family for loving a muggle, thought to be a squib; it was all intended to fail in the end. And out of nowhere, a baby appears. His father leaves, and his mother is filled with grief. She abandoned love as her love had abandoned her. Tom may never quite understand that she died having given up.

He was born so blind.


	6. Letters and Lemonade

Once again, Harry had dreamed a nightmare of epic proportions. In the wee hours of the morning, before the sun had begun to stir from its own sleep, he screamed and tears poured down his face, mixed with sweat and blood.

His lungs gasped for air, stealing it from the room in a panicked frenzy. Soon enough, Harry realized it had all been another nightmare, and he calmed his racing heart with that soothing reminder. _It was all just my mind. None of it was real._ Though he would never admit it, even to himself, sometimes he wondered if the things he saw were really happening; the guilt of what happened in his fifth year to Mr. Weasley still lived quite fervently within him, even if the event was not his fault, and dreaming it had saved his life.

In the darkness, Harry ran a hand through his hair and found a sticky substance to be present. With his right hand, he grabbed his wand. " _ **Lumos**_." The tip of his wand lit the room, and he could see that his left hand had blood escaping from a bite mark right on the bottom of this thumb, just under the knuckle. Nervously, he looked around the room for the thing that had bitten him, and instead found a grumpy portrait with red eyes staring at him.

"You insolent brat! Are you unable to stay asleep the whole night without waking the entire residence?"

"I apologize, Sleeping Beauty. I didn't mean to interrupt your slumber," he said, sarcasm quite obvious in his voice. "Something bit me." He showed his hand to the portrait of Tom.

With a hiss in his voice, Tom replied, "I hope it was a poisonous snake."

Harry sighed and looked to his bite. "I'm sure I would know if it was a snake. I would have fangs marks, not teeth marks. This looks more human."

"Potter, just heal it up and let me rest. If you thought I was evil before, I promise it can only get worse when I lack sleep." Tom rubbed at his temples with an irritated expression.

But Harry was not listening. He was consumed with the bite marks on his hand. They looked human for sure. Who could have bitten him? He was alone in this house. There were numbers upon numbers of protective enchantments on this house. Plus he had told Soran to alert him if anyone showed up at the door trying to get in (as Harry hoped Ginny would come and talk to him about his visit). He would know if someone else was here, right?

"If I could, I would hex you right where you lay, Potter. Put that light out immediately!"

"No one else is here. How the hell did I get bitten?"

With a murderous look, Tom growled. "What does it matter? Heal it and go back to sleep."

With one last guess, Harry raised his hand to his mouth and fit his teeth into the mark. His teeth sunk in perfectly.

"What the bloody hell. I bit myself?"

"Yes, amazing discovery. Now sleep before I exit this portrait and smite you!"

" _ **Knox**_." The light went out, and Harry stood and exited the room so the ex-dark lord could sleep instead of yell empty threats. He closed the door, and then called for Soran, who popped before him right away, a bit groggy.

"Master Harry Potter called?"

"Yes. It seems I have a bite. I was wondering if you could treat it. I'm not so talented with healing magic when I haven't gotten much sleep." Harry could feel his own tiredness coming back upon him.

Soran bowed low to the floor with a wobble and stood back up with a bottle of potion in his hands. Harry wondered where the bottle had come from. He didn't have it a second ago. Unless he popped away and back while Harry had given a long, sleepy blink…

"Here be a potion, sir. Takes it and be better in the morning."

"Thank you, Soran."

The house elf vanished with a pop. Harry downed the potion and went back into his room, placing the bottle on his bedside table. As he was getting into bed, he noticed an owl on his pillow, hooting softly and holding out its leg. In the darkness, Harry could only see that the owl was speckled. He was not sure he had ever seen it before. With a long sigh, he removed the letter and grabbed his wand and lighted it once more, which brought upon another growl.

"Potter! Do you not sleep?!"

"Relax. I have a letter. If it's sent this late, I don't imagine it's not important."

The dark nature of the grumpy Tom seemed to subside. "A letter? From whom?"

_Dear Mr. Harry James Potter,  
While I am sad to bid farewell to yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Mr. Willis Edson, I am pleased to inform you that you have been chosen to be the replacement. If you chose to accept, please reply as soon as possible to this letter with the next date of which you are available to discuss your new position._

_My utmost congratulations,  
Headmistress Padma Patil_

Harry smiled at the letter. "I've just been reaccepted into Hogwarts." He grabbed for a piece of parchment and a quill and quickly wrote his reply, stating tomorrow afternoon to be his next available date (as every day was an available date for him, why not make it the soonest possible?), sending it back with the owl.

"I'm afraid I do not understand. Reaccepted into Hogwarts?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "You were not dumb enough that you failed out of Hogwarts and had to grovel your way back in to finally graduate, were you?"

"What? No. I got the job for Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"That's excellent. When do we start?"

With a scoff, Harry replied, "We? I don't recall you applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts recently."

Whether it was a trick of the light, or possibly just Harry's imagination, it seemed as if the painted eyes that looked right at him reflected in such a way that looked sincere and…something that Harry couldn't quite name. Innocent? No…not in the Dark Lord.

"Oh, what harm could it do? I'm offering you my assistance with such a stressful job. I ask for nothing in return. I'm sure I'll be more entertaining than the dreadful ghost that teaches History of Magic."

_How does he do that?_ Harry could only ponder in his mind. _I know that he means nothing BUT harm, and yet I feel as if he made a point. I have this dire urge to let him. What a manipulative bastard. It's no wonder how he became the most powerful dark wizard in all of history…_ "Absolutely not. I fail to see how you can help to me as a portrait."

"If I'm a portrait, then obviously I am unable to carryout harm. I have no means of doing anything but speaking and leaving my frame. If I am capable of no help, I am also capable of no harm. I ask, do not leave me here if I am able to go with you back to the place where my brightest years took place."

To Harry's ears, these words came from a reformed dark wizard, renouncing his old ways to be able to better the generations of wizards to come, and yet Harry's mind knew that could not be true. Once evil, always evil, whether dead or alive. He had to remember that.

He sighed. "I'm going back to bed." Harry put out his lighted wand and got back into bed, falling into another deep dream that would not release its grip until its final seconds.

* * *

The bright and early sun rose over the rooftops, shining its warm rays upon a boy with tousled hair, tangled in his sheets with sweat dripping down his face. It prickled his skin and he was roused from sleep by a calmed voice he found so familiar. The feminine voice was always so strong and yet so soft.

"James, wake up. Are you feeling alright?"

He opened his eyes a crack and found a blur of red and peach. Once he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, his vision cleared. He gave Lily a half-smile.

"Yeah, I feel fine. It must have been that lemonade. Geez, what did we put in that stuff?"

Albus, holding an ice pack to his forehead replied. "Water. Lemon juice. Sugar. A bit of magic to stir it while we were outside."

James sunk into his bed. "You used magic to stir it? I told you, dad _never_ used magic."

"Well, it was a self-stirring spoon. What were we going to do to, stop it?" Lily said, leaning over James to check his temperature. "You have a fever, too."

"Well, I guess that's what we get for swallowing it, eh Al? We should've spit it out all like Lil."

Albus chuckled. "Yeah. That was probably the best thing to do."

"I'll go get you an ice pack too." Lily stood.

"Oh, Lil! Go check the mail and see if dad replied yet."

The three children grew anxious as they remembered the letter they had sent to their father yesterday. The youngest nodded her little red head and smiled. "Alright."

She left the room, leaving Albus and James to lay in bed and await the news.

"Really, what did we do _so wrong_ with our lemonade just by letting our spoon stir it for us?" Albus had been pondering the complexities of a drink that had once seemed so simple to him.

"I guess we'll just have to see what dad said, now won't we?" James smiled at his brother, though he didn't feel quite well enough to really mean it.

They sat in silent anticipation, wondering about their father. Where had he gone? What was he doing? Had he even read their letter? Did he still love them? If he did, why haven't they heard from him? Their ominous thoughts were only broken by the entrance of their sister back into the room.

"Here's your ice pack, James."

"Was there a letter from dad?" Albus asked instantly.

"I haven't checked yet. I just went to get his ice pack."

"Well go on and check! I'd rather hear from dad than have a cold forehead!" James gave a wave of his hand.

"Alright, alright, I'm going. Geez…" Lily huffed and left the room once more.

She walked through the house to the front door, finding the owl pole outside to be holding up Helios, who seemed to be enjoying his breakfast.

"Helios! Has dad replied to our letter?"

The little owl let out a soft hoot and clicked a bit with his beak. He finished all but the tail of the meal he had been playing with, flew over to Lily and perched itself on her arm.

"Oh, yes. Yes, he did reply!" Lily ran inside as fast as her legs could carry her. "James! Albus! Dad answered our letter!" She arrived in the doorway, two glowing faces putting down their ice packs to hear what their father had to say. The owl held out its foot, where a letter and package were attached.

Lily removed them and sat on her bed and the other two gathered around her as she read the letter out loud, all of them wondering curiously what the small package had in store for them. (Their father had a knack for giving gifts.)

" _Dear James, Albus, and Lily,_

_I miss you all, too. I would have come to visit, but your mother must be so busy with her work that she has not found the time to reply and schedule a day and time. She could even possibly be waiting for a day that she has off to invite me over. Whatever the reason, it won't be long before I see you. I promise_." She looked to James, who held a look of frustration.

"Yeah right. Mom's been throwing the mail into the fireplace for months now. She never said it was Dad sending letters…"

Lily looked back to the letter and continued reading. " _First off, I will meet you at King's Cross to see you off. It's been a while since I've been, and I am dying to see you all, even if only for a few moments before you head off to school for the year._ " She smiled. "Yes, we'll get to see Dad again! _I also happen to have an idea of my own. Be cautious with the object I have attached to this letter; it's sharp around the edges and easy to cut yourself on-I learned that the hard way. I can't really visit you with it, but we can talk through it. Maybe I can even see what went wrong with your lemonade. Just say my name into it, and you'll appear in the mirror I have. I'll work on making you a mirror that isn't just a shard and get it to you before you leave to Hogwarts._ "

Albus took the package and unwrapped it carefully, finding it to look very sharp indeed. They all inspected it, wondering what will really happen when they called their dad's name. Of course, only Albus doubted what it did. "Mom always says never trust anything that thinks for itself if you can't see where it keeps it brain."

"What are you talking about?" James began to raise his voice. "Dad sent it to us. Do you think he would send us something that would hurt us?"

Lily shook her head and continued reading before the argument continued. " _Don't worry about me. I've been doing fine, living in my godfather's old house. It's the one I told you about in the stories of my years at Hogwarts; the Grimmauld Place. Really drab, but I have a house elf, Soran, and plenty of books to keep me busy. All my love, Dad._ " Lily looked to her brothers. "The Grimmauld Place? Why would Dad stay there?"

Neither brother wanted to answer. Lily was so young, but got things once she was told them, as she had a general understanding of the world. What would she feel figuring out that their father had nothing but that house, a few objects, and memories? "Well, he lost his job, Lil, remember?" James softened his tone. "He couldn't buy a new house. He had to make do with what he had, and he only had the Grimmauld Place."

"Thank goodness he had a place at all." Albus sighed. "I'd hate to think of what would happen if he was living on the street."

Lily only grew more confused. "What would happen if he lived on the street?"

"What? Lil…he wouldn't have a house."

"Well, I know but…you made it sound like there was more than that. Like, he had to worry about other things than just not having a bed and food and stuff."

They all sat in silence. It had been a while since they had thought about the worry they had all had for their father. When he was Head Auror, they had been aware that he was at risk. While they knew he had always been the hero, they wouldn't deny there were some nights where their mother had lost sleep shedding tears, waiting for their father's safe return. But he would always come back, and the job would be done. They couldn't help but think to themselves if he would be in the same risk not having a home. James was sure there were still some crazy wizards running around, still claiming to be Death Eaters, no matter how far gone the movement had been removed from time. (It proved close to Nazis after the holocaust; there would always be that small minority…)

"Well," piped up Albus, "let's try this mirror." He carefully held it up to his face, seeing the reflection of brown hair on his head and green eyes that he had inherited from his father. As the other two gathered around closely to see into it too, Albus spoke to it. "Harry Potter."

Their image in the shard changed in a swirl, and they saw, for a moment, only darkness. Albus squinted, trying hard to make out what he was seeing. "Dad? Are you there?"

After a few seconds, their father's eyes appeared. "Albus! Merlin…you look so much like me, I could've sworn I was seeing a younger me in this mirror."

"Dad!" Lily pushed her face in front of Albus's.

"Oh Lily! You look more wonderful than ever. I'm sorry it's been so long since I've seen you."

"It's alright, Dad. I miss you. Why is it so dark there?"

"Oh, well, that's the Grimmauld Place, for you. I can never seem to get light in here, no matter how many windows I open up."

"Alright, my turn. Eldest coming through." James pulled the shard from his brother's hand as strong as he could without cutting both their hands to shreds. "Hey, Dad."

"James. My, you all are growing up so much. I hope everything's been alright."

He grinned. "Everything has been pretty alright, except for our lemonade. Afraid it's made Albus and I a bit sick. Luckily Lily never swallowed any."

Harry shook his head. "I have really got to find out what's making your lemonade so horrid. It's honestly not too difficult to make. Well, I guess I say that having made lemonade fresh my whole life." He grinned.

"Oh yes, manual labor. That's what everyone wants to brag about," said a voice in the background. "I had only the finest elves make everything by hand for me."

The children were confused. "Dad, who's there with you?"

"Oh will you be quiet? I'm talking to my children, for Merlin's sake."

"Oh yes, and you thought this out quite well. There's an entire house you can talk to them in and you chose the one with-"

They heard a door slam and saw some movement. "Sorry kids. I recently acquired a very annoying painting."

"A painting?" Lily tried to force her face in front of James' so her father could see her, but only managed an eye. "What kind of painting?"

"It's a moving portrait. Honestly, there's a very long story behind it…"

In the distance, the children could still hear a muffled voice trying to be heard, though they couldn't make out what exactly it was saying.

Harry sighed. "Well, remember when I told you about that picture in the Grimmauld Place that insulted everyone who came in? The one I got rid of a while back, before you were in school, James. I seem to have replaced it with one even worse, completely on accident."

"Dad, how do you _accidently_ get a moving portrait?" Albus attempted to smush his face into the view of the shard, too, though failed miserably.

"Here's a lesson for you all," Harry said as he put up a silencing charm, "Never ask someone to make a moving portrait for you if they hardly speak your language. Also, don't pay them when they promise to throw in a free frame. It only leads to trouble." Harry smiled at them. "Speaking of, I was told by Professor Patil herself that you all may or may not be getting into some trouble at school."

James put on a wicked grin. "Oh Dad, you should have seen the look on Sandal's face when I gave him my end-of-the-year present."

Lily giggled, "Fifteen of those new Dragon Cannons. Oh, Uncle George gave them to James before they were even out."

Harry chuckled. "Oh my, what on Earth are Dragon Cannons?"

"They burst into flames when touched and shoot out to try and nip the person who touched them in the butt," James laughed.

Albus shook his head. "I thought they seemed dangerous. What if you had burned Sandal?"

"I don't think it was real fire. Just some stuff to look like fire. But man did he _run_ through the Great Hall…"

Harry smiled. He was glad his children were enjoying Hogwarts as much as he had. "So I take it my cloak and map are doing wonders, then?"

Lily piped in, "Oh yes, Dad. Absolutely."

"We don't do anything without them," Albus added.

"But we've still kept them a secret. Just us three, Rose, and Hugo know," James said.

"Good. Good. We wouldn't want your professors to be suspicious of your exploring." Harry was proud of his children's safekeeping. "What have you found out so far about Hogwarts?"

Albus ran over to his bookshelf and pulled off an incredibly large notebook and ran back to the shard. "Well, we've been keeping track of every floor and room. We've already tried looking for everything you found in Hogwarts in your years."

"Really now? Let's see just what you've found out, through each of my years. First year?"

"Third floor…third floor…" Albus rifled through the pages, "Fluffy still resides inside, but the chambers no longer exist."

"Second year?"

Albus rifled through some more pages. "Chamber of Secrets still opens, but there is no way to get past the Parseltongue door to know for sure. We tried some random hisses, but they never seemed to work."

"Mhm. I see. Third year?"

Lily cut in. "Shrieking Shack still open and still shrieking." She smiled at James and he laughed.

"Fourth year?"

"Hmmm…" Albus flipped through some more pages. "We found the Triwizard Cup from your year in some room on the fifth floor. It was very magically protected."

"Fifth year?"

"Room of Requirement. One of the first rooms we ever found. Still trying to discern all its magic."

"Sixth year?"

"Unfortunately, the Half-blood Prince's book no longer exists. At least, it's not anywhere near the potions classrooms. Any of them."

Harry nodded. "Yep. You've really got everything. I'm impressed."

Lily, Albus, and James couldn't help but smile. They loved their father, and nothing made their time at Hogwarts more fun than exploring the things their father had done at his time there. It made them happy to know that he was happy with their findings.

"Now all you've got to learn is how to make lemonade properly, and you'll know everything I know." Harry smirked. "So. How do you make lemonade so horrible that it makes you sick?"

Lily grabbed the shard gently and pushed her brothers into bed. "You both should be resting!" She took the shard into the kitchen with her and inspected the remains of their lemonade. "We squeezed the lemons into some water and added sugar."

"Hmm." Harry thought to himself a moment before asking, "How old are the lemons? Where did you get them?"

"Well, I got them from the garden…"

Harry could hear Albus and James groan in the background.

"The garden?" James asked, incredulous. "The one that's practically turned brown?"

"The lemons were still yellow, so I thought they were okay!" Lily's small mouth turned to a grimace.

Harry simply laughed. "Make sure they rest, Lily. They should be fine as long as they didn't drink the whole thing."

"They barely managed a sip." Lily's face saddened.

"Hey, Lil. Cheer up. It's alright," Harry smiled at his daughter. She looked so much like her mother. "It was a small mistake. Your brothers will be fine."

Lily peered into the shard with puppy dog eyes. "Dad, I miss you. Can't you come make lemonade with us?"

Harry sighed. He wished he could, with all of his heart. "I'll make lemonade with you at some point, okay? I promise."

At this, Lily perked up a bit. "I love you, Daddy."

His heart filled with warmth and sadness, Harry breathed in deep. "I love you too, Lil."


	7. Will Work for Fame

Harry was nervously pacing about in his godfather's room (even though he owned the house and had lived in it for months now, he could not consider it his), waiting for the proper time. When his reply from Headmistress Patil came in, it had stated she was busy yesterday afternoon, but would be able to meet with him this afternoon if he was available. He had, of course, immediately told her he was available. Now, all Harry had to do was wait until the afternoon rolled around, specifically, 1 o'clock. He had woken early in the morning (or rather, in the middle of the night) and had gotten dressed, eaten, read some more on dreams, eaten again, and was now simply waiting. To Harry's dismay, it was only 11.

Harry was about to sigh when his doorbell rang, causing him to jump. He never had visitors. In his confusion, he went to the door and looked through the peep-hole. All Harry could make out was a blurry figure through the aged glass. Really, it did him no help.

Upon opening the door, Harry was met with a big, "Bonjour!" and handshake.

"Ah, Monsieur Potter! I 'ave brought to yoo yoor frame! I offehr my sincere apologies, Monsieur zat it took such a long time to make."

Sure enough, the Frenchman had a beautiful silver frame by his side. Much to Harry's embarrassment. And to think he had accused the man of cheating him. "Oh, thank you."

"I vill 'elp yoo size it."

"Uh, alright then." Harry opened the door wider for the man to step inside.

The Frenchman walked in and immediately seemed fascinated with the house. "Merveilleux! Yoor 'ouse iz beautiful."

More and more, Harry wondered about this Frenchman and his mental abilities. "Is it?"

"Oui, Monsieur. Yoo are a very talented decorator." His face seemed to light up as he gazed at the drab greyness and mounted heads.

Harry led him up the stairs and to the portrait of Tom Riddle, listening with a disturbed expression at the Frenchman's compliments of the house. He thought to himself that if he ever managed to acquire another house, he would sell this one to the Frenchman.

At once, Tom Riddle made his presence known, an intimidating expression on his face. "Who dares to be in my presence?"

"Oh shut it, you. You're getting a new frame."

Tom seemed to make sure he looked look as huffy and aristocratic as possible upon stating, "I will only accept the finest frame made of silver."

The Frenchman chuckled heartily. "Only ze purest silver, oui? I make my framez by hand, of course, Monsieur." The Frenchman placed the frame over Tom's portrait and shrunk it to the perfect size with his wand. "Parfait!" He marveled at his work for a long while, talking on and on about other portraits he had painted and the people who had commissioned them, before asking Harry, "Iz there anyzing else yoo need, Monsieur?"

Harry forced a polite smile and said, "No, thank you."

The Frenchman nodded his head and headed to the door, Harry right behind him. The Frenchman, who continued to babble on about his business, stopped just before the exit to hand Harry his card. "If yoo ever need another portrait, yoo can call me. I vill give yoo a discount for having zuch a lovely home. Or maybe you can invite me over sometime." He winked at Harry and left. Harry quickly closed the door behind him, a furious blush on his cheeks.

Harry finally sighed and made his way to Sirius's bedroom. All of that had taken about an hour of his time. What to do now?

"Where _did_ you find that… _thing_?"

Harry could have laughed. "What's crawled up your skirt today?"

Tom gave him a murderous glare. With a quiet sharpness, he replied, "What?"

Without being able to help it, Harry grinned. "I mean, yesterday you seemed content with annoying me, but today you're all ' _Who dares to be in my presence.'_ Are you cranky?"

Tom scoffed. "A word such as ' _cranky'_ is not fit to describe a person such as myself. However, if you are referring to my state of _irritation_ ," Tom paused to give a pointed glare, "then I believe it is because of the sleep I have been losing."

After opening his mouth for a moment, trying to think of something to say back, ( _Well it's not my fault. Wait, yes it is. Well, I didn't ask for you in portrait form. But I didn't exactly burn you either. Maybe I should burn him. Why did I put him in the room I sleep in, again?_ ) Harry settled on, "Would you like your own room?"

Tom seemed to ponder the thought. "Put me in the hall by the stairs."

Harry frowned. "You're not going to insult anyone and everyone who comes into the house, are you? And if I cover you up, you won't scream or anything, right?" He didn't want a repeat of the last portrait that resided in this house.

Tom sneered. "Only if you decide to let muggles into the house."

Before Harry even could think of a comeback, he pondered the fact of Tom's very presence in his godfather's house. Not only had Harry not burned the portrait and put it in the room he slept in, but he had been putting up with the man's every word without much argument, much more like a terrible roommate than an arch nemesis. He talked to Tom, let Tom bother him, and bothered Tom back. Sure, it had only been a couple days, but the old Harry would have locked the picture away somewhere far from where he slept, right? In fact, the old Harry probably would have never even taken the picture from the weird Frenchman. What was he doing putting up with his hated enemy? He was too old for that.

"You know what? I might just throw you into an old dusty room and cover you up."

Tom simply raised an eyebrow and placed his hands (or what Harry could see of them) behind his back. "It would be unwise of you to do such a thing." He studied Harry a moment, a well preserved mask in place, before explaining, "Simply hanging in a dusty room for the remainder of my existence is…not particularly something I would enjoy. I apologize for my rude behavior."

"Uh," Harry responded, with much elegance, "Did you just apologize?"

Tom paused a moment, possibly gathering words, or possibly charm. "Harry, I did not ask for this state of existence. I am more than sure you did not ask for my state of existence either…"

"Or your existence at all," Harry interrupted.

"Yes," Tom continued, trying with all his might not to lose his collected expression, "But even through these _unfortunate circumstances_ , we must attempt, at least, to not be at each other's throats." He ran a hand through his hair, not at all ruining the style. "The easiest solution here seems to be a compromise. By putting me in the hallway, you will have your privacy returned, I will have my sleep returned, but we will not need to deal with the terrible consequences that would occur from my staying in this room, or my moving to another, empty room. It's really quite simple."

Harry scrunched his chin up, thinking for a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah. That could work. Alright, then. Shall I move you now?"

Tom smiled pleasantly at Harry, perfect white teeth shining, easily making the other man feel happy to help; Tom simply had a knack for charming. "Brilliant idea. Thank you, Harry.

With much ease, Harry picked the portrait off the floor and walked it out to the hallway where several empty pegs clung to the wall. He gently placed the canvas down on two, which held the portrait steady.

"There you are, Tom." Harry smiled as he watched the two-dimensional man bow his head in thanks. He stood there awkwardly a moment before a strange feeling came over him: did Tom just trick him into doing what he asked? He had said it was a compromise, but that was what Tom wanted; there wasn't anything compromise-like about it at all. Harry suddenly felt sort of used, and weak-minded. He thought it had sounded like a good idea when Tom said it, but now, that he thought about it, he would be able to hear Tom's comments anywhere in the house, if Tom talked loud enough. At least in his room Tom could be muffled by the door. Now there was nothing but air.

"Tom, did you-"

The clock chimed the short beginning of a tune; it was officially 1 o'clock.

"Bloody hell. I'm going to be late." Harry pulled out his wand and disapperated.

Headmistress Padma Patil sat behind her desk, nearly finished writing a letter to her sister, Pavarti. They were still very close, of course-they were twins after all-but Pavarti had been off on an excursion with her husband in the wilds of Australia. It was true what they said; marriage changes people. Padma could understand that, and though she struggled at first to accept having another person care as deeply for her sister as she did, she had grown to enjoy Pavarti's husband, and could trust in him to keep her sister safe and cared for when she could not.

Padma had taken to updating her sister on her still sort of new position as headmaster. It had just been passed down to her a couple years ago when Head Mistress McGonagall stepped down to retire. She had been teaching potions for a while, since only a few years after finishing with Hogwarts, and her appointment to Headmistress, though unexpected, was gradual, thanks Minerva McGonagall's understanding of how important it is to learn the job before taking over. Neville helped along the way, too, being the Deputy Headmaster to Minvera; she could understand why he would turn down the position, having a family and all, and she appreciated the patience he had with her. She felt comfortable in the job, now; it was no longer foreign to her. Many witches and wizards looked up to her she had so much influence now and pressure didn't feel so heavy any more on her shoulders. She was confident in how she choice to run things and how the wizarding world saw her. Slowly, she was growing her political prowess, as well. She wanted to be as well-respected as Dumbledore, someday.

She felt the wards of her office shift. With a smile, she flicked her wand and in came Harry Potter, dressed in poorly pressed black robes. She made no comment on the matter, as she was sure the sign meant nothing he cared to share with her.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Professor Patil. I mean, _Headmistress_ Patil." He gave a nervous smile, very unsure of himself.

"You can call me Padma. Honestly, Harry, we went to school together." She tried to sound as comforting as she could, to relax Harry. Being nervous never helped anyone. "You did take my sister to the Yule Ball, remember?"

Harry chuckled a bit more than he meant. "Yeah. Afraid I wasn't much fun at the time. Nor was Ron, as I recall."

"Well seeing Hermione with Viktor Krum couldn't have been easy for him. I understand their romance was a bit complicated at the time."

"Oh yeah. But Ron's always been very thick-headed. It took him nine years to propose. Hermione had pretty much planned the whole wedding already."

Padma took her turn to laugh. "Oh my."

Harry nodded. The room fell into silence around them as her laughter subsided, broken only by the whizzing of the various knick-knacks spread around her office. They thought over the past, remembering some things fondly, and others not so fondly. It seemed like so long ago they were in school for the first time, taking in all of Hogwarts, gathering experience, and yet, at the same time, hadn't they just finished fighting for the school they loved? Was it not just yesterday that they rebuilt the very walls around them? Padma had just become a professor. Harry had just become an auror. They had begun their futures and kept looking forward. When had they grown up? When did they begin to look to the past so regularly? To miss the years that seemed to slip from their fingers?

"Harry," Padma said quietly, "where has time gone?"

After taking a long exhale, Harry thought aloud. "To the same place everything goes when it's gone for good."

_What profound wisdom in such a simple statement_ , though Padma. If there was a heaven, have all their favorite memories gone there with their loved ones?

A few moments went in further thought. Padma smiled. "Look at us, dwelling on the past like a couple of old geezers. We've still got life ahead of us, Harry. Now, we've got business to discuss for the life ahead of you."

Drawing back to the present, Harry nodded. His throat seemed to tighten once more.

"I'll be honest," Padma began, "I'm not sure you'll want the job. You have a fantastic résumé. One that anyone can see. The big question is, of course: will you last?" She placed her elbows on her desk and gave Harry an apologetic expression. "Not a single witch or wizard has been able to keep the position more than a school year. There have been many I've thought would last for sure, but something or another comes up, and they have to go. Harry, I can promise you pay, a place to stay, great meals, good curriculum and any sort of materials you will need, as well as many friends, but I can't promise that I can make you stay here." She paused a moment before continuing, "It could be bad. You're whole family could become ill with a terrible disease and need to be quarantined. You could be killed. Or paralyzed. Or, it could be good. You could run off to America with a long lost relative. Or win more money than you know what to do with, so much that you won't ever need to work again. I can't tell you what it will be. But I know you won't stay. Do you still want to take the job?"

It was the most sincere, direct honesty she could offer, and Harry could clearly see that. Everything was laid out, hanging in the air; did he want this job enough to risk the possibility of something bad happening? What could possibly happen? Really, the worst thing that could happen, Harry figured, would be if he got fired at the end of the year. He needed this job. He needed to see his kids. He needed to feel like he was still having an effect on the world, like it wasn't simply passing him by without a second thought. He wanted to feel like himself again, like he had when he was in school, or when he was searching for horcruxes, or when he was an auror. He had to do something with his life.

"Yes. I'll take it. No matter what the end result might be."

Padma smiled and nodded. "Excellent. I'll have to go over some things with you briefly, paperwork," She stood and walked about her office, gathering various packets and a couple of quills, "and then you can begin planning your lessons out. I'll need to have a copy of that, of course, so I can approve it." She made her way back to her desk and sat, turning the papers to face Harry. "Due to the constant shifting of DADA professors, I make sure to keep it the most regulated so students are still learning everything they need." Flipping a few pages on the first packet, she pointed to a list. "This is everything the students need to learn, sorted by years. You, of course, can add as many things to that as you would like, but you cannot skip over any of these without first consulting me on the matter. You can keep this," she slid the packet over to Harry. "Now, time for the many, many signatures. Lucky for you," she held up a quill trimmed in bronze, "I brought my business affairs quill. One sign will transfer to all the specified signature spots. I'll give you the summarized version of what these papers say you agree on." She cleared her throat and took a sip from a teacup that had been sitting on her desk. "You, Harry Potter, will teach Defense Against the Dark Arts to the best of your ability, won't harass the students in any way, will discuss any matters you feel need changing with me, and most importantly, carry on the Hogwarts standards."

She held out the quill, which Harry accepted. He signed his name in semi-sloppy, but legible writing. Padma grinned and picked up the papers and carefully placed them into an envelope (magically enlarged on the inside, of course). She whistled, and in from the window flew in a beautiful dark feathered owl, who whisked the envelope right out of her hands and flew right back out.

She giggled. "Quite impatient, that owl. Always in a hurry to get somewhere." She signed. "Now, the school year will begin in a few weeks. I expect your lessons plans at least three days before so I can go over them and make any necessary changes, but I doubt I'll have any changes to make." A flash of a smile. "If you would like to stay here over the year, arrangements can be made whenever you'd like to move in. We've plenty of rooms over by Gryffindor Tower. Neville has one he occupies during the busy parts of the year. I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company." She breathed out in a content sigh. "That's all I have for you, Harry."

Harry felt a smile grow on his lips. "Brilliant. Thank you, Padma. I'll work all of that out as soon as I can." He stood, feeling lighter than he had in a while. Was it the air around him that was less dense or was it that he was stronger somehow? He pulled out his wand. "Uh, good day," he said awkwardly, not quite sure of what to say as a goodbye.

"I will see you very soon, Harry."

He turned and disapperated.

* * *

Tom had been rather bored simply waiting for Harry to return. The plotting and scheming had even gotten boring; he hadn't even known that such an act was possible until then. Of course, he had been _very_ productive. Maybe it was because he needn't much worry on alternatives if something went wrong. He was more than sure Harry would comply; that much had been made clear earlier that day. Tom had always been a charmer, to both snakes and people. The words he spoke, no matter the language, could twist the minds of those weaker than him in moments; he didn't even need magic to do it. That was the power of charisma.

In his previous state of existence in his beautiful snake body, Tom had looked into many alternate forms of existence to escape the firm grip of Death. He had understood that horcruxes, while effective, could not, and would not, be a form of life he could easily multiply. The magic involved was so dark and complicated, not to mention painful, he dared not make any more than he already had. He endangered his sanity, his power, and his charisma, the very thing that got him to the seat of power in the first place.

He had read on portraits, and how the simple picture of a witch or wizard, painted with the right kind of paint, could last lifetimes and hold true to the subject. He had also found many theoretical spells on removing said witch or wizard from the picture and placing them into the real world. Most could do it for moments, maybe a minute, using a mix of Transfiguration spells. Some said it was impossible. A rare few offered potion recipes and several blood magic spells to (theoretically) achieve a real, human body once more. The only complications to them were that they were theories. How sure could he really be that one of them would actually achieve his desired results? He didn't dare risk the chance of even a slight malfunction back then. But now? He couldn't see why not…not when the opportunity so clearly presented itself to him out of nowhere…

Yes, he enjoyed thinking about these theories. He would once again be the powerful God he had been before. He had his mind set on it. And when the heir of Slytherin had his mind set on something, there would be nothing that would get in his way.

There was a sudden pop in front of Tom as Soran appeared, feather dusters floating about him. He snapped, and they set out to dust the whole hallway, including Tom's portrait.

"You accursed elf! I will not have my portrait touched by such a filthy object. I expect my frame shined with only water and the proper shining paste."

The elf snapped once more, calling off the duster and summoning a soft, damp towel. "Sorry, Flat Master. Soran will not again dust your frame." The towel went straight to polishing his frame, making the silver seem to shine nicely, though the house had hardly any light.

Just then, Harry appeared with a crack in the front hallway, packet in hand. He smiled to himself, a giddy feeling in his bones, like he could jump and touch the clouds. Tom eyed him curiously.

"Harry, how was your appointment with the Headmaster?"

Harry turned to the man in the portrait, grin stretching as wide as it could possibly go. "Wonderful, actually. I'm officially the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Tom nodded once. "Excellent. When do we move to Hogwarts?"

"What?" Harry was dumbfounded. Tom merely rolled his eyes.

"Leaving here to live inside Hogwarts. I assume you do not want to live in this…" Tom's brown eyes glanced around the house in a quick sweep, "shack," he noted distastefully, "when you could live at Hogwarts. Your children will be there as well. I figured it was only logical."

"That's not what I was…' _We_?'"

Tom turned his full attention on Harry. "Well, you are _not_ going to leave me in this filthy heap while you teach the subject in which I am particularly gifted. You could very well use my advice."

Harry scoffed. "Yeah, advice on the unforgivable curses, or how to make a horcrux. It's ' _Defense Against_ the Dark Arts,' not 'the Dark Arts.' If _anyone_ is gifted in this subject, it's me. I defeated you, the most evil wizard in all of Wizarding history."

Tom's calm façade fell and was replaced with sharp, bitter resentment. "Dumbledore denied my only desire in the world, and why?" he spat. "I had a sphere of influence, yes. I wished to change the very core of the Wizarding world. I had no intentions of anything evil until I was _denied_."

Though he opened his mouth, Harry had nothing to say. Harry knew Tom had grown up with nothing no parents, no friends, no love in his days at the orphanage. Was it possible that Tom lashed out because his one last desire, the only thing he cared for, was kept from him? Harry hadn't considered it before. The mere thought made him feel a bit odd.

_He is a portrait. How could it hurt? I'll just take him. Maybe put him outside my room._

Harry was familiar with the comforts Hogwarts gave to one's inner child with nothing to their name. Was his enemy really so evil if he was quite like himself? He debated it, but quickly smothered the flames before they spread. _Once a murderer, always a murderer_.

"Alright. I'll take you along, but you are _not_ staying in my room and you are _not_ going to have anything to do with my class."

Tom smirked. "When will we be leaving?"

Harry sighed. "Right after I plan all my lessons for the year."

He went into the darkened dining room and gathered some parchment and a quill to begin planning. Setting them on the table, many thoughts running across his mind as he attempted to remember how he would have liked to learn DADA. All the while, a smile stayed chiseled onto his face as his future smiling students awaited their lessons from the legendary Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.


	8. Ideas, Thoughts, Memories of the Past

 

Papers lay completely strewn about the table in hopes of being able to look at what he had finished so far and to prevent repetition. Days upon days had been spent on finishing them, and the evidence was clear in the ruffled, tired appearance of one Harry Potter. His eyes were red, bloodshot from the lack of blinking as he stared again and again at the many, many words he had written on each paper. His mind was becoming more and more scattered with each second, since he had not even bothered to try and sleep the past weeks; he took mid-day naps instead to keep his insanity at bay. He didn't even bother trying to clean up the table so he could eat the meals Soran brought to him each day, choosing to simply to eat over them and work at the same time. His cleaning spells were beginning to lose their potency as crumbs still lay hidden amongst the papers, as if they were papers themselves.

Time and time again, Tom caught himself growing bored of the determined Harry; as he was hardly paying him any attention. He was used to holding a room out of sheer fear of what he would do next; he needn't even try. That was his old life. Could he consider this existence a life?

"Potter!" Tom yelled from the hallway, so his voice could reach the man.

Startled from his thoughts so roughly, Harry jumped. Adrenaline pumped though his body, his heart raced, and what little concentration he had been holding onto fluttered away like a bird.

"Are you finished yet?!"

After a moment, Harry felt himself relax again. This wasn't the Dark Lord that had tried to kill him. This was simply the annoying mistake of a painting he had unfortunately become the owner of.

"Well, I _was_ nearing finished. I only have to plan for the second semester for the seventh years, now. I was going to need to muster everything I have to write it, but I don't think there is a single bit of anything left in me." Harry sighed, but it turned into a yawn that made his eyes water. "I am so tired."

"If you are tired, Harry Potter, then here is a novel idea for you to try: sleep."

"I can't, Tom, and it's your fault." Even though Tom couldn't see him, Harry gave an irritated glare in his direction.

Tom raised an eyebrow. Maybe Harry paid more attention to him than he once thought. "Do you dream about me, Harry?"

He scoffed. "Dream? No. Bloody nightmares? That's a different question."

Suddenly, this conversation was interesting to the former Dark Lord. With much ease, he switched on his charm. "Harry," he said, sounding purely sincere, "Come here a moment."

After hesitating a few seconds, Harry stood and left the dining room, heading to the painting hanging in the hall. The man awaited his arrival, standing tall and proper. Tom's brown eyes were soft, though Harry wasn't sure how eyes could look such a way, especially when they belonged to Tom Riddle.

"Harry, are you still frightened of me?"

While his face seemed offended, there was a just a hint of truth in his face that revealed just what the answer might be: yes. Was he afraid of this painting in his presence right now? No. What could a painting do to him? Was he afraid of Lord Voldemort, even long after he was defeated and gone? That was the question.

"I'm not _frightened_ ," Harry started. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say, but he was sure as hell going to say it. "When you were Voldemort, you took a lot of things from me; family, friends. I cared about those people, and they cared about me. Those loses are still there in my head, like they were just yesterday. What scares me is having to lose them all over again."

His words were stuck in the house like peanut butter, making the air thick with silence. As soon as Harry had finished saying it all, he knew it to be true. He wasn't sure this was anything Tom would understand. But why not? Why did it seem that Tom wasn't capable of anything like love? From what little that he could remember from looking at his past all those years ago, Harry didn't even think Tom had anything more than some followers. No friends, and certainly not anything more. Harry wondered, for the first time in many, many years, about Tom's past.

"Tom, you told me that you weren't evil until Dumbledore denied you as a professor. But if that's so, why did you never have any friends?"

The painted man had expected neither the answer nor the question that Harry had uttered. He kept his face a collected mask, but underneath it, he was uncomfortable with the subject. Why would he ever need something as weak and inconsistent as _love_ or _caring_? He was once a great Dark Lord, master of his own army, set out to change the Wizarding world for good. His name had gone down in history. That was all he had ever wanted, greatness; to wake each morning and feel important amongst the other important people of the world.

"Potter, I did not need any such things. I focused on my studies while at Hogwarts. I wanted to be great. The best." Tom allowed an evil smile to cross his lips a moment. "And I am."

While Harry wanted to protest ( _how can you even live with yourself when you have no one?_ ), he knew noting he could ever say would change how Tom felt. Instead, he settled on saying, "You have no idea what you are missing."

Harry turned and began to walk back to the dining room, but he paused at the doorway and turned back to Tom. "Maybe that's why Dumbledore didn't let you teach. You have no idea how to care. You only wanted to be great."

He turned and left a speechless Tom Riddle to muddle around in his past.

* * *

Lily took a deep breath and looked around their room. There were three beds, made up and smoothed out, trunks in front of each, half full with clothing and books. James had a broom leaning against the wall: a Barrier Breaker, the second fastest broom on the market, after the newest Barrier Breaker II. Across the room, there was another broom, Albus's. It was the Firebolt II (real vintage) that their mother had when she played for the Holyhead Harpies. He had, of course, been offered a newer broom, but he always preferred his mother's broom; he had been flying on it since his first time on a broom and knew its control inside and out. Even if it was no longer the fastest broom out there (not by far), he could out-maneuver anything, and that's what he needed to be Keeper. Lily liked quidditch and all, but she didn't much care for playing unless it was at home. Her brothers constantly told her she was a magnificent seeker, but she never wanted to play.

With all her heart, she loved Hogwarts, but this year was so incredibly different from the others. This year, school meant being away from a father she had once been so close to. Only a short time ago, she had seen him happy as he waved his goodbye as she left for her very first year at Hogwarts. He had assured her that any house was a great house, even Slytherin. Of course, the whole family was in Gryffindor after she was sorted. She remembered writing to her father of the good news. His letter had been so happy and proud. It had been at some point during the year when she had written him, but he hadn't replied. She did not think much of it until the letter from her mother had been sent to James all those months later. It had all happened while she was gone, and there was nothing she could have done to stop it. Constantly, Lily thought about what would happen this year while she was away. What would her father do? He had no job, a crummy house, and just a shard of a mirror to talk to them. What did he do all day? Did he feel at fault? Her mother had told her time and time again that it was no one's fault, but Lily wondered if that was one of the things grown-ups said to children so they feel better about the world. But lily wanted to know what happened, truly.

If she knew, maybe she could fix it.

Lily plopped down onto her bed and curled her arms around her pillow, burying her face in it. She wanted a happy family; the one they used to have, where her father would make lemonade and her mother would talk about all the latest updates with the quidditch teams, and James and Albus and her could relax on the couch with their lemonade and look out at the beautiful garden and feel like their home was perfect. All those times seemed so distant to the present, almost as if they happened many, many years ago. Lily felt a lot older than she really was. Why did she let this happen?

That was it. It was _her_ fault. She didn't stop it. She didn't ask her dad what was going on; she went on with school as if the absence of his letters was normal. It was all her fault and now their family was ruined forever.

Tears pooled onto her pillow, making her wet eyes even more so. Aside from sniffles, she was silent. She did not want to alert her brothers in the kitchen, experimenting with various concoctions to make something that will explode like a firework but distribute an enlarging spell on the people below. She feared, a bit, that they were continuing on with life, but she was stuck. Most of all, she was afraid that they were stuck, too, and simply just tried to hide it. She wanted to ask for them to cheer her up, to tell her everything was going to be better someday. But she would never do that if it meant making them feel sad, too. The courage in her, the pride of being a Gryffindor, told her that she could go it alone if it meant keeping them happy. She would pull through. Everything would be alright. Someday…

Hogwarts seemed so far away from the world she was in. She had no idea where Hogwarts was on a map. She was fairly sure it was still somewhere in England, just not sure where, exactly. Lily was never much for learning the names of cities and their connections. In her mind, it was in a new world entirely, in a whole other dimension. She wasn't sure just how far dimensions were from each other, but she didn't imagine she would like being that far from her father.

And yet, here she was, packing her belongings into a trunk yet again. Why was life this way? She was sure there was some way she could understand.

"Hey Lil." Albus cracked open the door a bit more. Noticing how she lay on the bed, he asked, "Are you alright?"

Lily sighed and sat up, wiping the tears from her face. "Yeah. I was just thinking about Dad. How are we ever going to see him when we're at Hogwarts?"

Albus gave her a somber smile and plopped on the bed next to her. "Lil, we can always write him letters. And he said he would figure out how to get us a bigger mirror to talk to us on. Maybe he'll visit us when we have field trips to Hogsmeade, too. We can ask him."

Lily nodded, sniffing a bit. "I'd like that. We could go have ice cream or butterbeer together."

"Yeah, see? It'll all be alright. We'll ask him when we see him this weekend, alright? For now, we've got some packing to take care of." Albus stood and held out his hand to her. "Wanna see what James and I have so far for our TrollBooms?"

Lily laughed. "TrollBooms? Is that what you're calling them?"

"Yeah. Uh, James came up with it. He said they'll all be looking like trolls when the show's all done with." Albus laughed. "Come on."

Lily took his outstretched hand and went to the kitchen, only to find James with abnormally large hands and feet, eyes widening as they entered.

"I can explain."

They both laughed, and Albus pulled out a bottle labeled _Shrinking Solution_.

"And the pranker becomes the prankee," he remarked, sprinkling drops over James's feet with a dropper. "You're lucky you have us, or you'd definitely have to explain to Mom later."

"It wasn't supposed to go off." James tried with all his might not to laugh at his own catastrophe. "I hadn't even lit it, just barely touched it."

"I guess that means we need less black powder and a longer fuse."

"More like more every powder, because it didn't even shoot fireworks, it just flashed red and gold in my face."

"Red and gold? Are you trying to get Gryffindor in trouble?" Lily commented. "Make it say "Slytherin House" in a nice shiny silver and green, so we get to see their house get troll hands _and_ lose house points."

James gave a wicked grin. "Oh little sister, you are an evil genius. Let me hug you."

Lily giggled. "No, you've still got troll hands."

James stepped closer, trying to catch her, but she backed up and ran. They were both giggling profusely as James chased her.

"Come here, Lil! Let me hug you!"

"No! Albus, shrink his hands!"

Albus stood and watched the show, chuckling. "I can't. He's moving too much. I might accidentally make you mouse-sized."

The sky grew darker and Ginny had finally apparated home from a long day at work. As soon as she landed in her bedroom, she fell onto her bed, kicking off her heels and sighing. She missed her days working at the Daily Prophet on the Quidditch column. It had been something she had truly loved. Now, her job was so dull and unforgiving. Sure, she was paid much more, but she could feel the strain and stress in her bones. Is this what her life would be like from now on? Sucking the life out of her own self to be able to provide for her three children? She wasn't sure she could do this for the rest of her working life. But something inside her told her she wouldn't want any other job in the world. She couldn't figure out why.

Down the hall, she heard her children laughing and the loud patter of running feet. It had been a sound she had not heard in quite some time. It brought tears to her eyes to be away from them so much. She brought these beings into the world, cared for them, loved them, and now it was as if they were growing up without her even there. How could she let that happen?

Ginny stood, feeling the protest in her limbs, but she wanted to see her children. She walked out and into the hallway, watching James run after Lily with big giant hands as Albus watched.

"Seriously, James, it's not funny anymore!" Lily said, laughing. "Shrink your hands back to normal size!"

"But Lil, I just want a hug!"

Lily was about to run into the hallway to escape to their room when she spotted her mother, leaning against the wall, watching them with a smile.

"Oh."

They all stopped running and laughing. They could see in her face that she was tired, much more than they had last seen her. Somehow, she looked older, different.

"Mom, I can explain the hands," James started, but Ginny simply laughed, light and pure, like bells.

"Up to another one of your pranks, I take it." Every word Ginny spoke was a fight to get out.

Albus pulled out the bottle again and sprinkled some _Shrinking Solution_ on James's hands, which returned to normal size. "Yeah. We're calling them TrollBooms."

"TrollBooms? That seems like a pretty foolish name. And there's no ring to it." She stood from the wall and took a step forward, the tension in her back moving to her legs once more. "What is it?"

"Well, they're supposed to be fireworks that go off and cause everyone underneath them to grow big hands and feet." James shoulders sagged, sheepishly. "But it just burst when I touched it. Not even one good explosion."

"And the ones before whizzed all over the house and exploded outside, but no growing afterwards." Albus added.

Ginny thought a moment. "Why not combine the two? Call them Whopping Wilds. They'll whizz all around the room, give one big burst, and then give even more people big hands and feet."

James was the first to react. "Yeah." He looked to his concoctions and powders sitting on the counter. "We stuff one pouch with the colored, growing powders for the final blast, and we put it in another one with the black powder, then we put _those_ into another pouch filled with the slow burning stuff Uncle George gave us!" James began stuffing powders into a pouch. "It's brilliant, Mom, thanks!"

Slowly, the other two smiled as well at the thought. Albus went and joined his brother, fixing the mistakes his brother made in his hurriedness. The boys discussed excitedly about the plans they had for the new Whopping Wilds they were going to create.

Lily went and hugged her mother, watching the boys work. "I missed you, Mom. I'm sorry you have to work so much."

Ginny sighed. "I miss you too, Sweetie. I wish I could take a day off, but I've got so much work that needs doing. I'm important to the Ministry." But she didn't feel important. She felt expendable.

Peering up at her mom, Lily said, "Maybe Dad will find a job soon. Then he can send us money so you can have a different job."

Ginny smiled tightly and nodded. Her daughter was so kind and thoughtful. As much as she wanted to attribute it all to herself, she knew it had been Harry, the old one that she had loved so much. They were so caring, delicate on the ones they loved. Mistakes were nothing but quick fixes, and hope was always there like a warm, friendly blanket. There was nothing that couldn't be dealt with, head-on, and solved. She desperately missed that Harry. A piece of her was missing he had always held. But that part of her was wrong. She had to stay away from Harry. But why? Her mind felt fuzzy.

She changed the subject. "How much packing have you all done? It's only a few more days until it's time for school."

"We're mostly done. Just gotta fit in the fun stuff, now," Lily replied.

"Alright. Well, make sure the boys don't make a mess of my house while they're are making them, alright, Lil?" She kissed her daughter on her forehead. "I'm going to head to bed. I've got to get up early tomorrow for work."

"Okay, Mom. I love you. Goodnight." Lily released her mother.

"Night, Mom!" The boys called out.

"I love you, too. All of you. Goodnight." Ginny headed to her room and fell back down onto her bed, filled with thoughts of her own mother, and why she felt terrible that she seemed nothing like her. Her job was the only think that kept her going like this.

* * *

The already dark house was somehow even more so as the sun left the sky and the moon rose. Harry, illuminated by a lamp with a slowly dimming bulb, neared the end of his lesson plans. He felt so exhausted, he wasn't even sure his words were making sense anymore, but he kept his quill writing and his eyes open. He had some special plans for his seventh years at the end of the year, since they would probably mostly be going to be Aurors, or something of that nature. He was more than sure this would prepare all their minds, bodies, and hearts for the job. He was sure he was the most qualified person to do so. Or was he?

And just like that, he was finished. Done. With all his lesson plans. And with a whole day to spare. Harry smiled, and then laughed, getting louder and louder, and then quieter as he couldn't breathe in.

"Potter! I will have none of your _nonsense_ at this hour of the night! Silence!"

Harry simply laughed harder, gasping for breath, and yelled out, "I finished! I'm done! My lessons plans are all done!" He danced around the house and continued laughing and shouting, all the way up to his Godfather's room. He closed the door behind him, muffling the rage of the portrait in the hallway, and finally quieted down. Now that he was done with lesson plans, he would need to pack. He would need things for his office. He would actually need to send off his lesson plans. But most importantly, he would need sleep.

" _ **Accio Potion for Dreamless Sleep**_!"

A beautiful lavender bottle came into his hands with grace. This was his only bottle, he hadn't wanted to waste it, but now seemed a good a time as any to drink it. He could make it last the few days he had left until he was at Hogwarts, then maybe he could ask the potions professor for some more, if he really needed it. He hoped he wouldn't need to do that.

He drank from the plump bottle and set it down on his bedside table. He could already feel the effects start to hit him as his eyes got droopy and he gave a big yawn. He stretched out onto his bed, nice and comfy, and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	9. A Surprise for All

"Come along, Hugo. Time to leave."

Hugo grabbed his mother's hand, trunk gripped tight in his other with his empty owl cage on top. His owl, Fred, hadn't done very well being in his cage while all the hustle and bustle of the platform went on around them, so Hugo had let him out earlier. He was sure he would find his way home.

"We're running late, Ron! Please hurry!"

Rose, Hugo, James, Albus, Lily, and Hermione stood in the living room, holding hands, awaiting Ron's departure from the loo so they could all disapparate to platform 9¾. They'd have no time to take the muggle way, as Hermione had planned. It would have to wait for another time, she supposed.

"Alright, 'Mione. I'm out. Let's go." Ron jogged over to them and put his hand on Hermione's shoulder, and they apparated.

Everyone landed perfectly on their feet, with everything intact, beside the benches on platform 9¾.

"How are you feeling, loves? Any queasiness?" Hermione looked over the children. She had hoped the ginger root gummies would help their stomachs relax.

Rose, chipper as usual, replied, "Fine, Mum."

James and Albus nodded, a little pale, but alright. Hugo and Lily, on the other hand, seemed a bit green.

"Oh dear." Hermione pulled out her wand and sent some stomach soothing spells to ease the nausea. She also handed them the bag of ginger root gummies from her bag. "Here, snack on some of these on the train, alright? They should help. I'm sorry. I know your first times are the hardest."

Lily and Hugo, with some color returning to their cheeks, nodded and sat down on the bench they were near, each taking a few ginger candies from the bag.

"Blimey, King's Cross never grows old, does it?" Ron gazed around the platform, enjoying the beautiful atmosphere is always seemed to have as it filled with witches and wizards or all sorts gathered along the train platform.

Hermione looked about, too, taking it all in. "Well, we can relax for a moment while Lily and Hue settle."

They all looked about, seeing some people they knew, and many they did not. The faces turned this way and that while the black billowy robes seemed to devour everything else. So many faces passed, moving every which way in a rush to get where they were going. And in the crowd, one face popped out to little Lily's eyes; almond-shaped green eyes, just like Albus had, with crazy black hair spouting off in every direction as if it had a mind of its own, and just vaguely behind it, a lightning bolt scar.

"Daddy!"

Lily instantly stood from the bench, leaving all her belongings behind and ran to her father, just now coming to the edge of the mob of the crowd. She hit him hard, throwing her arms about him and holding on tight and he laughed and steadied himself enough to be able to put his arms around her too.

"Hey, Lil. It's so good to see you."

Albus and James, who had been watching Lily run into his arms, now smiled and made their way over as well.

"Dad! You made it!" Albus threw his arms around his father, too.

"Of course I made it, Albus. I said I would." Harry smiled and hugged his two youngest children tightly. He looked up to see James standing by them all sort of awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Harry hoped he didn't feel too grown-up for hugs. "Come on, James. Join the hug."

James scoffed, and glanced around for any sight of his friends. When he didn't see anyone, he gave in. "Alright, munchins, step aside. Eldest coming through."

They all stood there, hugging each other, feeling the time that had separated them disappear. It had been so many long months since they had last been together. And in all that time, though much had changed, they were still family.

Hermione and Rom watched, unsure of what to do. From what Ginny had told them, Harry had gone a bit mad, and was incapable of caring for himself, let alone his children. But she had told them that so long ago, it seemed. They hadn't even talked to her since she had gotten that new job of hers. Hermione wondered if it had been a while since the children had seen either of them.

"Harry."

He peered up at the familiar voice, seeing Hermione, a hint of tears in her eyes, smiling. The children released him, but stayed by his side. "Hey, Hermione. Ron." He glanced between the two of them. "How has it been?"

"Great, actually." Hermione said. "Ron just got a promotion."

Harry's heart fell, but he nodded and gave a fake smile. "That's…great. Head Auror Ron, then?" He looked to Ron.

"Er, yeah. They thought I was the best candidate after…you know." Ron's face was slightly pink around the edges.

"Well, congratulations. I'm glad the department is in good hands."

Both Harry and Ron stood, not really meeting each other's eyes, until Hermione made a face at Ron, gesturing with her eyes for him to talk to Harry.

Though he made a pleading face in reply, Ron walked a bit closer to Harry, so he could speak soft enough so no one else could hear but them. "You know, er, mate, no one blames you anymore. No one even remembers what happened. We caught the guy and his gang. No hard feelings, okay?"

As much as Harry wanted to scream at Ron, tell him that there was nothing _but_ hard feelings after they fired him, his kids were there with him. He didn't want Lily and Albus and James to ever act like he felt he should be acting right now. He wanted them to always be the bigger person.

"Okay. Thank you."

Ron nodded and went to stand by Hermione.

"Oh Harry, where are you working now?" Hermione's brown eyes had that motherly sheen that was so characteristic of her.

Harry smiled, leaving the bad thoughts of the past behind him. "Ah, yes. That is my big surprise for the day." He looked down at his children with bright, happy eyes. "I'm going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year."

Immediately, Hugo and Lily squealed with excitement. In their young eyes, this would be great. Maybe they would get to have some fun in class for once! Albus and Rose, though definitely happy, were confused. James, however, knew this meant his father would now be the target of all beginning-of-the-year pranks. And he wasn't looking forward to getting detention from his own father. Or worse, _with_ his father. What would his friends think of him, then? Oh, he hoped he wouldn't get lectured in public.

Hermione was appalled. "Harry, no one has that job for more than a year. What are you going to do next year?"

Harry shrugged. "Depends on what happens that makes me leave."

Hermione simply gaped, but Ron said, "Nice. I hope you end up like the one who got all that money."

She slapped Ron's shoulder with her hand. "Ronald, what if something bad happens?"

"He's Harry. I'm sure he'll be fine, 'Mione."

"Oh! The train's leaving in one minute!" Rose shouted as the whistle sounded.

The families gathered their things and pushed themselves into the crowd to get the children, and Harry, on board. Harry mostly helped carry Lily's things, since he had taken all his things to Hogwarts the day before. (He now occupied the room directly across the hall from Neville's.)

James quickly parted from them, going off to find his friends. Rose, Hugo, Lily, and Albus all found an empty compartment and settled themselves in. Harry waved and left them be. After all, he was their professor now. No one wants to sit with their professor on the Hogwarts Express, right?

His thoughts drifted to Professor Lupin all those years ago. He understood how he must have felt, to want to be involved so much in his life, but not daring do much more than he had. It was a hard line to walk.

The whistle on the train blew once more, indicating it was about to leave. Though Harry had thought maybe he could ride on the train, from the looks of it, every single compartment was full. He pulled out his wand and just as he was about to disapparate, he saw a young boy, probably a first year, walking past each compartment, his navy blue eyes looking in with a sinking expression. His robes looked tattered on the bottom, barely hiding his very dirty trainers, and his mousey blonde hair stuck out in tufts. As the train began to move, the boy nearly fell over.

Harry walked over to the boy and helped him steady himself. He squatted, getting on his eye level. "Hello. What's your name?"

The boy backed up a bit, perhaps shy, or just unwilling to talk to strangers.

Harry just smiled. "I'm Professor Potter. Do you need help finding a compartment?"

He nodded and let his sad blue eyes fall to the floor.

Harry stood. "Come on. I'll help you. I'm sure there are some empty ones in the back." Harry held out his hand.

As the boy looked up at Harry and grabbed his hand, his eyes lightened into a turquoise color.

Harry began to walk forward, boy in tow. "Those are some interesting eyes you've got there." Harry looked back to see the boy's expression fade once more into a sad one, his eyes turning a navy so dark it was almost black. "Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way. I have a godson like you. His hair changes like your eyes do. When he's happy, it's a bright bubble gum pink, just like his mother before him."

As they walked along, the boy seemed to lose more and more hope of finding a compartment. Just when Harry thought they had neared the end, he did a double-take as he looked out the saw what seemed to be a whole other car attached to the one he thought was the last. Harry took the boy into the very last car and saw that there was no one in it at all. Harry supposed that Hogwarts was not the only thing with magic up its sleeves.

"Here we are. Now we've got the whole compartment to ourselves." Harry led the boy into the very first compartment. "Here you go." The boy packed his trunk under the seats and sat down, seeming so small with all that space around him. Harry felt bad. How was it that all the other first years had somehow made friends enough to sit with others and this boy had not? "Would you like some company?" The boy was so small and delicate. Did he looked scared? Harry wished he was better at reading emotions. "It's alright, if you don't want to sit with a professor. I get it. No need to worry about hurting my feelings."

They boys blue eyes turned bright yellow in a flash.

"Oh." Harry was sort of startled. "Do you want me to stay? I can stay if you want."

The boy gave a small nod.

Harry stepped in and sat across from the boy, looking out the window at the city going by. "Is it your first year at Hogwarts?" His eyes parted from the window to look back at the boy, who once again wore turquoise eyes. The boy nodded. Harry smiled. "I remember my first year at Hogwarts. I would have missed the train entirely if I hadn't found the Weasleys just as they were going to Platform 9¾. I grew up with muggles, you see. I had no idea what or where the platform was." Harry chuckled to himself. "Little did I know, then, that I'd become a part of the Weasley family."

The boy gasped.

"What? What is it?" Harry looked around for something that caused it, but found nothing.

The boy, now with bright green eyes, squeaked, "You're Harry Potter!"

"What? Oh, yeah. I am." Harry laughed. He forgot he was famous for a second. "What gave it away? The scar?" He put his hands on his forehead absentmindedly. "Always the blabbermouth, this thing."

The boy stared in awe.

"Well, now that you know my name, can I know yours?"

"Gemini. Gemini Swalton," He said softly.

"Hmm." Harry nodded. "Gemini. That's a constellation. So, you're named after a constellation and you can change the colors of your eyes. Are you sure you aren't related to my godson's mom at all? Her name was Nymphadora."

The boy's eyes faded back to blue again. "No. I can't be. I've got no parents."

"No parents? You're an orphan?" Harry asked quietly.

Gemini shook his head. "No. I never had parents. Can't be an orphan if you've _never_ had parents." The boy took to looking out the window.

Harry decided to change the subject a bit. "So, Gemini. Why Gemini? Do you know?"

"Because I was born like this," the boy blinked and his right eye was blue and his left eye was brown. "The ladies at the center named me it because I seemed like two different people. They used to whisper that I ate my twin in the womb."

Harry seemed taken aback. What an awful thing to say about someone. "That's terrible. I learned about stuff like that back when I went to muggle school. They say the two colors are due to genetics, it has nothing to do with…with that."

"Muggles," the boy pondered aloud, "there are scientists that have created technology and can explain almost anything, and yet they don't even know magic exists. They don't even take the time to educate those who can't afford it, so they end up with ladies at orphanages who have nothing but superstitions to believe in. No facts, no science, not even real magic."

Harry was at a loss for what to say. The boy's eyes were a startling scarlet, reminiscent of Voldemort himself. Harry felt the ever strangest feeling that this boy was exactly where Tom Riddle had been his first year at Hogwarts: alone, hating the muggle world, gaining the knowledge to build up his future empire. It was a startling thing. Harry hoped he was wrong about where Gemini was headed.

"Gemini, I understand. Really, I do. Everyone tells the story of how my parents died but I didn't, but no one tells the story about how I went to live with my muggle aunt and uncle who neglected me and made me into a house servant while treating their son like a king. When you're young, all you want is their love, and the more you grow, the more you just want to leave."

The boy looked back to Harry, tears clinging to his firey eyes. "They called me the Spawn of Satan when they thought I couldn't hear them."

In as soothing a tone as Harry could manage, he continued, "There are bad people in the world, Gemini, but they aren't all muggles. Voldemort was bad. Terrible, actually. He killed so many people, from pureblood witches and wizards to muggle-borns and muggles. His power made him terrible, just like the ignorance of those ladies at the orphanage made them terrible. The thing about terrible people is that they make other people around them terrible, too."

Gemini looked to Harry, one eye yellow and one eye red.

"I'm going to tell you a story, okay?" Harry could hear the trolley lady in the distance. "Here, I'll get us some candy and some pumpkin juice from the trolley and then I'll tell you this story, okay?" Harry stood and left the compartment, walking into the next car where the trolley lady was rolling through. "Miss!"

The lady looked at him and smiled. "What'll it be, dear?"

"Uh, two of every candy you have but the beans. And two pumpkin juices." Harry pulled out some money, but he was more than certain it was more than he needed to pay. "Uh, here. Keep the change."

"Oh, bless your sweet little heart. Here, I'll get you a bag."

The lady stuffed the bag with a bunch of sweets and handed it to Harry, who smiled and said "Thank you" before walking back to the compartment where Gemini waited for him.

"Now," Harry stated-matter-of-factly as he opened the compartment door, "the thing about wizard sweets is that most of them try to escape from you as you eat them. Or worse, bite back. So be careful." Harry smiled. "The chocolate frogs come with fancy cards with famous witches and wizards on them. I suggest starting a collection, as many students are willing to trade you if you have one they need. Good way to make friends."

Gemini's violet eyes stared into the bag delightfully and pulled out boxes and boxes of various sweets. "My god!" He found the two pumpkin juices and pulled them out, handing on to Harry.

"Oh, thank you."

"Thank _you_. I'd never be able to afford any of this."

Harry smiled. "I figured you'd want something to snack on while I tell you this story. Now, make sure you listen. It's an important one that I've only ever told my own children before."

Gemini nodded and munched on a pumpkin pasty.

"Now I believe this takes place some 90 years ago. There was this woman who used a love potion on a muggle man she loved. Her family was absolutely crazy pureblood, but we won't get into that. Anyway, they had a child together named after his father, Tom Riddle. While pregnant with little Tom, his mom ran out of love potion to give to his father, so he left her. She was heartbroken, of course. Eventually, she gave birth to Tom Riddle Jr., but passed away during the process. Little Tom Riddle was then sent to an orphanage, just like you were, before he could even remember.

"As Tom grew up there, there were many things about him that made the ladies in charge there whisper about him. He was odd, and they couldn't understand it. If I remember correctly, they called him a demon, or something like that. Then, when he was eleven, Mr. Albus Dumbledore himself, before he was headmaster at Hogwarts but after his big defeat of Grindlewald, came to tell Tom that he was a wizard and that he could go to Hogwarts and learn magic. Dumbledore had heard from all the ladies of the terrible things he had done, as if he had grown up believing that he was a demon. Dumbledore talked to Tom, asked him about his powers, and Tom told him that he could make things move, and talk to snakes. He was very powerful, since he did all this before he got a wand. Dumbledore made sure to tell Tom that he could go to Hogwarts only if he learns how to control his magic and to use it properly. Tom agreed, probably because he didn't like the orphanage and being a wizard is much better than being a demon.

"So Tom went to Hogwarts. He was sorted into Slytherin house because he grew into this desire to be great. He wanted to be the best. That's not uncommon when going to school. However, while Tom was there, he researched his family and found out about his muggle father who abandoned him. That, along with the horrible muggle ladies at the orphanage, grew his hatred for muggles. Later, even after that, he found out he was the Heir of Slytherin. That was why he could speak to snakes. Parseltongue, they call it. It's a trait so rare that it was said only Salazar Slytherin and his family could do it, so it made sense that he was the Heir of Slytherin. Of course, every summer he had to go from being the Heir of Slytherin to just a normal boy living in an orphanage. It was quite a terrible time for him.

"Tom never made any friends at Hogwarts. He sort of just made some followers who would later prove useful to him. The longer he went to Hogwarts, the more he got into dark magic and the more he hated muggles. He opened the Chamber of Secrets, a secret set of tunnels underneath and around Hogwarts that used to have a huge Basilisk inside it, and he blamed it on someone else. He learned how to make horcruxes and began the process of splitting his soul into pieces by killing people and placing them in objects so he couldn't ever die. He took up the name Voldemort, since he hated his given name, and began to have a following in purebloods. He finished his time at Hogwarts and tried to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, which Dumbledore denied him, since Dumbledore had always been aware of what he was doing. Voldemort, it's rumored, cursed the position so no one could have it for more than a year, and then he grew his following, killing so many people to make himself immortal. He started the first wizarding war, causing many, many more to die.

"And then he heard of this prophecy. He heard there was a prophecy that was about him and someone who could defeat him. He got one of his followers to try and figure out what it was, but he only got the first part: that there was a kid that would be born at the end of July that would be able to destroy him, from two people who had defied him three times. While there were two families that fit that description, he chose to believe it was the Potters. One of their friends had become a follower of Voldemort and told him where Dumbledore had hid them, and so Voldemort went to their house and killed them to get to the baby. But what he didn't understand was that Mrs. Potter, the mother of the prophesized child, had sacrificed herself trying to protect her son, and left a powerful magic over him that rebounded the killing curse Voldemort had sent. The rest, of course, is history."

Gemini sat, eyes wide and pastel blue, gaping at Harry and his story.

Harry nodded. "Yep. Tom Riddle used to be just like you and me. Many people think it was because of the love potion, he was not able to love and that's what made him evil, but I think it was his choices. I think it was the hatred that grew within him that he never let go of that turned him into the evil thing he became." He gave Gemini a somber smile. "Gemini, I want you to promise me that you won't let the hatred eat you up, okay? I know you don't like your life right now, but never let terrible people make you terrible too."

Gemini nodded and stared out the window, lap full of candy mostly untouched.

Harry watched as they passed green hills and grasses that went on forever and he wondered, just for a moment, if he did the right thing telling the story of Tom Riddle to this boy.

"Is Slytherin a bad house to get sorted into?"

Harry immediately shook his head. "No. It's not. I think it's just a misunderstood house. One of the bravest men I know was from that house. He was my potions professor when I went to Hogwarts." The boy looked unsure. "If you like, I'll tell you a secret: the Sorting Hat takes your opinion into consideration. I was almost put into Slytherin, but I told it I wanted Gryffindor, so it gave me Gryffindor."

"Really?" Gemini smiled, eyes changing to a bright purple.

"Oh yeah. No point in putting you in a house you don't want to be in, I guess. But it's best to stay true to yourself."

Gemini smiled and took to searching through the candies on his lap once more. "What are these?"

Harry smiled and picked up a box of them. "Oh, they're fun, these ones. Let me show you."

Harry picked one and popped it into his mouth, tasting what seemed to be toffee. He then made a loud trumpeting as if an elephant were charging right in the very room. Gemini laughed and picked one up as well, eating it with no hesitations. Suddenly, he was making monkey sounds. Harry laughed.

They ate the most they could of their candy and took the rest for later. Harry passed the time on the express with ease. He liked Gemini, and he hoped, for the boy's sake, that his life would get better.


	10. Plans

"Now that you have all been sorted into your houses, I have a few announcements to make." Headmistress Patil smiled and glanced about the room. "Please, stay away from the Forbidden Forest. It is forbidden for a reason. And respect all rules set by both your Prefects and Mr. Sandal." There were a few snickers from the audience. "As you all know, there is a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. I'm very pleased to introduce Professor Harry Potter." Harry stood from his seat next to Neville and gave a wave. There were many gasps , but overall the students erupted into applause.

"I think they might remember you," Neville said, chuckling.

Harry sat down and replied, "Remember me? They weren't even born when I did all that stuff."

"Harry, you were _barely_ born when you did all that stuff."

"Good point."

"Now!" Padma gestured her hands forward and out as food began to appear on the tables. "Let the feast begin."

The students began to eat and chat and be merry, and the professors watched on, enjoying their own feast.

"I didn't know the professors were drinking wine up here," Harry commented.

"From what I hear," Neville replied, "it was more than just wine after you showed up, Harry."

Harry chuckled. "I imagine McGonagall must've had some pretty hard fire whiskey to deal with having to deal with me when she was head of Gryffindor."

They both laughed. "Yeah," Neville continued, "your children are probably the reason she retired."

Harry nodded in agreement. They piled delicious food on their plate. As Harry ate, he glanced all around the Ravenclaw table, searching for where Gemini had gone off to.

"Come to think of it, Neville, my children aren't too difficult to keep up with, are they?"

Neville shrugged. "Well, they do take after their dad, that's for sure."

"Wait," Harry sniffed jokingly at Neville's cup. "You're not drinking fire whiskey, are you?"

Theodore Nott, on the other side of Harry, smiled. "Don't say it so loud, or else Padma will hear you and we'll all get in trouble."

Harry was so happy to be back at Hogwarts. He was once again surrounded by friends and a magic that he could not explain. The very feeling of Hogwarts was in the air, and he loved it. And apparently, he was not the only one. As he looked down the table, at professors he had never known, or barely knew, he could see them all being quite merry with one another, talking and laughing and telling vivid stories, just like the students.

From behind him, a man with thin brown hair and a bright smiling face. He cleared his throat and Harry turned to him. "Hello, Harry. It's good to see you again."

Harry had to look away and look again to make sure, but he was positive this man was none other than Dennis Creevey. "Dennis?"

"You remember me. Oh, I'm sure it's not very fondly. I must have been awfully star-struck."

Harry smiled. "It's alright. Don't worry about it."

Dennis smiled extra big. "I teach Muggle Studies. I hear you're the new Defense professor."

"That's right."

"Listen, Harry, I was wondering if I could maybe borrow some of your cooking skills later this year. I'm doing a whole chapter on non-magical house chores, including cooking. I'm throwing a cook-out sort of thing and I hear your muggle cooking is delightful."

"Really. Who said?" Harry was blushing a bit. He wasn't used to compliments on his cooking.

"Well, your children, for one."

With a smile, Harry replied, "Sure, why not? It'll be fun. What should I make?"

Dennis nodded very quickly. "Excellent. Uh, the cook-out will be in a month. Uh, you don't have to decide what to make now, but at some point it would be good. I should probably make a sign-up sheet so no one makes the same things. Yeah. I'll, uh…I'll work on that and get back to you. Thank you." Dennis gave a small wave and walked back to his seat on the other side of Padma's large chair, a pink blush growing on his face.

Neville and Theodore chuckled.

"Seems like he's still star-struck."

"Star-struck? The poor bloke seems like he's got a crush."

Harry nearly choked on his wine. "A crush? On me?"

"Haven't you heard?" Neville said. "Dennis is into blokes."

"Oh." Harry said simply. In his life he had sort of overlooked the fact of homosexuals. It wasn't that he didn't like them, or anything. He just hadn't known anyone who was. It was just something that was in the background of life until just now. "But surely he's not into me. I'm…well, I guess I'm not married anymore."

"You're not?" Neville was shocked. "What the devil happened? I thought you and Ginny were doing great."

Harry sighed. "It's a long story, Neville. Mostly, I was being a git. I was taking her for granted, pushing myself away. I'm not sure that I'm the same person she fell in love with, and it wasn't right for me to do anything but give her the freedom she wanted."

"Wow. The kids must've taken it pretty hard."

"Oh yeah. I'm sure they did. And Ginny got full custody, so I didn't even get to see them until today."

" _Merlin_ ," Theodore replied. "That much of a drastic change all at once? You both split and then suddenly it's just Mom." He shook his head.

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's what Ginny thought was best. Now she needs a job that makes her work all the time. The kids hardly get to see her, either. They're basically growing up on their own."

"That's terrible." Neville took a bite from his chicken.

"Do you miss her?" Theodore asked.

Harry pondered the thought a moment. "I miss the thought of her. I miss how close we used to be. But, no. I don't think I feel the same way about her anymore."

Theodore clapped him on the back. "It's alright, mate. I'll show you the Dungeons some time. We can have a few drinks."

Neville nodded, still chewing. "Ees gurt ur murncerv."

"Uh, what?" Harry looked confused.

"Mancave, mate. I've got a mancave." Theodore grinned and nodded. "Full bar, nothing but portraits of _hot_ birds in skimpy outfits, and all the latest news on Quidditch on a big…uh, screen thing…it's one of those muggle things."

"TV," Neville replied, mouth now free of food.

"Yeah. That."

"Not bad." Harry slowly nodded. "Sounds like fun, Theodore." He hadn't spent much time with Theodore back in his school days, but he seemed to be a pretty cool guy.

"Call me Theo." He looked past Harry to Neville. "Whatcha think, Neville: this weekend, mancave, a couple of the female professors from Beauxbaton only a fire call away…"

"No thanks. I don't think the wife would take too kindly to that."

"By the way," Harry joined in, "How are you and Hannah?"

Neville smiled. "Great, actually. We're expecting."

Harry gasped with surprise. "That's great!"

"Do you know what the thing is yet?" Theo rolled his eyes but smiled.

"Well, the muggle doctors we went to said it'll be a girl."

Harry clapped Neville on the back. "You're going to be a dad."

"Wait, muggle doctors?" Theo asked. "You didn't go to St. Mungo's and have the healers do a gender spell?"

Neville shook his head. "No, Hannah wants to do everything except giving birth the muggle way. She said her Mum told her the best thing about the healers there was the pain elixirs they gave her."

"So she's not gonna check for diseases and health issues the magic way?" Theo seemed critical.

"Yeah. They've done tests. So far, so good."

"When is the baby due?" Harry asked.

"Christmas Eve." Neville smiled. "She's gonna be our big present, I guess."

"Well, fine. Then I guess it'll be Harry and I this weekend. Sound good, Harry?" Theo lifted an eyebrow.

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Sounds fun."

"Alright. We are going to party, then. Friday night, after dinner. Make sure you don't give any detentions this week."

Harry chuckled. "Sounds like a plan, then."

Dinner was finished as everyone decided they were stuffed. The students were escorted to their houses and shown their rooms. The professors sat and chatted a bit longer, waiting for the students to all file out, and then left. Many disapperated, heading home for the night, and many others made their way to their rooms at Hogwarts. Neville bade Harry and Theo farewell as he disapperated to the Leaky Cauldron, where Hannah was landlady; they lived right above it. Harry and Theo walked a bit of the way together, making plans for their weekend, but soon Theo parted ways as he headed towards the dungeons and Harry to Gryffindor tower.

As Harry neared his room, he heard a familiarly annoying voice drift down the hallway.

"You, fools. I am Voldemort. You should _fear_ the very _mention_ of my name."

Other voices from the walls seemed to be contributing to this conversation.

"No one is scared of you anymore!"

"Not since Harry Potter got a hold of you."

"You're just a grumpy ol' _git_."

Harry sighed. It was going to be a long night.

"Really, Tom? Really?" Harry stopped at the end of the hallway, just getting into view of Tom's portrait.

"Don't call me that _vile_ name."

All the other portraits laughed at Tom's remark, attempting to further embarrass him. Tom, in response, took to giving murderous glares and shouting back.

Harry took a breath and lifted Tom off the wall and carried him into his room, placing him on the floor leaning against a wall.

"I can't take you anywhere," Harry declared.

"Those useless, pathetic excuses for canvas were mocking my villainous capabilities."

Harry huffed. "Is this what you wanted? Did you want to be put back into my room, because that's what you've forced me to do."

" _Forced_? Hardly. It was entirely your decision."

"You were yelling at the other portraits and using curses. We are in a school filled with students, for Merlin's sake. I'm not going to leave you out there to yell at them some more."

Tom sighed. "I vow not to yell back at them no matter how much they choose to harass me."

Harry shook his head. "Oh no. You've lost all hallway privileges. You are staying in my room as punishment until further notice."

Tom seemed to growl. "Potter, I will _not_ have you wake me midst my sleep again."

"Then you should have thought about that before you began yelling at the other portraits."

Tom reinstated his collected mask and once again. "I simply don't get along well with those portraits. You can keep me in here for now, but you won't do it permanently. So where am I going to go?"

Harry sat on the edge of his bed. "That is a very good question."

"Put me in your classroom."

"Absolutely not. We already talked about this."

"But, Harry," Tom turned his charm on, "it will solve all the problems here. I will not be in the hallway with the other portraits, or in your room."

"No, you'll just be there while I'm trying to teach my students. Which is arguably worse."

"Well, this would not be a problem if I simply was not in portrait-form."

Harry scoffed. "Yeah. If only you would go back to the fiery depths you used to occupy."

Tom glared at him but made no comment on his retort. "If I was not a portrait, would it not be easier to have a handle on me. You would not have to worry about my arguing with portraits, or having me in your room while you sleep."

Harry almost agreed, but found himself wondering how any of that was true. "What? No. If you weren't a portrait…well, what would you be?"

"There are many forms that are not portraits," Tom replied vaguely. "But Harry, if we are to both get better sleep, you must do something about this arrangement at once."

With a groan, Harry decided he agreed. "I'll look into it tomorrow at the library before class." He fell back onto his bed and mumbled to himself, "Maybe I should just throw you into the Room of Requirement and never look back."

Though Tom clearly knew he was being mumbled about, he decided to ignore it.

Eventually, Harry got up and made his way to the bathroom and began to ready himself for bed. Half-way through brushing his teeth, Harry decided he would take a shower. He had always missed the water pressure at Hogwarts. His spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth and toothbrush before stripping and getting into the shower, letting the hot water fall over his body. It felt good to feel the tension in his muscles fade away until his skin was red. He hardly needed to scrub since he was fairly sure that the topmost layers of his skin were already down the drain. Of course, his hair always took the longest because it was so thick and crazy; there was hardly any assurance that he was getting all of it with the 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner. After a few minutes of wrestling through it, he rinsed it, making sure he got it all out, and turned off the water. As soon as he left the shower, the cold air hit him and set a chill up his spine. Harry grabbed the towel on the counter and began to dry himself off. Once he finished, he realized he had forgotten to get some pajamas. He wrapped the towel around his hips and tucked it in so it stayed as he walked back out to his room to get some.

The air in his room was even colder than the air in the bathroom. Harry hurried over to his drawer, pulled out some underwear and some shorts, and was making his way back to the bathroom when he caught a pair of eyes staring at him.

"What?"

Tom's brown eyes, which had been running down Harry's body, not flitted back to Harry's eyes. "I did not say anything."

"No, but you were staring at me." Harry suddenly felt self-conscious. "Is there something on me?" He looked down at his own chest and tried to see if there was anything on his back.

"No," Tom replied.

Harry stopped searching. "Then what were you looking at me for?"

Tom shook his head. "I was not looking at you."

Though still suspicious, Harry let it go, making his way back to the warm air of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He had been looked at like that before, he was sure of it, back in his school days. That was the look girls had given him when they thought he was attractive. But surely it couldn't have been the same look. Right?

Harry began to dress, suddenly wishing he had also gotten a shirt. He felt exposed. But that look couldn't have been the same one. It just couldn't have.

Harry turned off the lights in the bathroom and shut the door behind him, immediately heading for the lights in the room as well. He shuffled over to his bed and covered himself in the sheets, but not feeling particularly tired quite yet.

"Goodnight, Harry."

The voice startled Harry, but he did not jump. He simply mumbled back, "Night," and rolled over so that his back was facing Tom.

Was Tom…gay? Harry had just really seen the idea today, and now here it was again. Nothing was wrong with it, right? Even if it was towards himself? He just wouldn't ever feel the same way. Never ever. The more he said that in his mind, the more he felt he was condemning the idea as bad. He didn't want to do that. Gay people had a right to like people, too, right? But had they ever looked at him like that before? Harry wasn't sure. He hadn't exactly been paying attention to that. He guessed now would be the time he would start noticing.

The more Harry thought about it, the sleepier Harry felt. Soon enough, he was fast asleep.

Tom, who had not even pretended to go to sleep, whispered, _"Harry? Harry are you asleep?"_

When Harry didn't even rustle a bit, Tom began to begin his plan.

" _Harry Potter, you want to turn Tom human again. Harry Potter, you want to turn Tom human again."_ He repeated it over and over, and Harry never once woke.

But deep in Harry's mind, his dreams were changing.

"Hey Harry," Dennis said, with a wink and a smirk, as he passed by Harry. Harry kept walking forward, looking straight ahead until there was another Dennis in front of him. "Hey Harry," he said again, winking and smirking. Harry shook his head and turned down another hallway. This time, the whole wall was filled with portraits of Tom saying, "Hello Harry," and winking in the same way, one by one as Harry passed each one. Harry tried running away, but the hallway kept getting longer and more portraits of Tom filled it. Harry turned down another hallway that seemed empty. Harry hesitated, taking one step at a time to make sure it was really empty. He looked to his left, and then his right, but there was a human form of Tom standing beside him.

"Hello Harry," this human Tom said, but he did not wink, just smirked. This Tom held out his hand, and Harry took it. He turned Harry around and suddenly they were in the classroom. Students peered up hopefully at them both. "Today, class," Tom began, "we will be discussing the three unforgivable curses." Tom's voice seemed to purr.

"What?" Harry said. "No." He looked around and suddenly the students were gone. It was just him and Tom in an empty classroom.

"Yesssss," Tom circled him, licking his lips as if he were the predator and Harry the prey. "I'm sure you're familiar with at least one of these curses." Tom's appearance melted into Voldemort's snake body, complete with red eyes. His voice suddenly changed to the strangled hisses they used to be. "I will kill you Harry Potter."

"No!" Harry wanted to shout, but he made no sound.

"I want to watch the light leave your eyes."

Harry fell backwards onto the floor and a frame fell on top of Voldemort, engulfing him in it. The frame lifted itself up and hung itself on the wall. Behind him, another Tom appeared.

"See? He stays in there," He gestured to Voldemort inside the portrait. "And I stay out here." Tom gestured to the world around them. "It is quite simple."

Suddenly the frame Voldemort was trapped in caught fire, and Harry and Tom watched as Voldemort tried violently to escape banging and scratching and hissing like an animal without success.

"He's gone now," Tom purred. "No need to worry." Tom grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him through the darkened doorway into the Great Hall. Suddenly, it was Lily holding his hand as they walked over to Gryffindor table and sat down together. Harry looked up at the Headmistress's chair only to find Tom sitting in it, holding his cup up and mouthing "Cheers" to Harry. He winked and then began to drink. The wine spilled out of the corners of his mouth, turning to blood as it ran down his face. Tom put the cup down and said to Harry as if whispering in his ear, "See? I stay out here. It's quite simple."

Harry heard a scream and turned to Lily, but she was gone. Instead, there was Dennis. "Hey Harry" he said, winking and smirking, again and again, as if on repeat. Harry got up, but before he could back up, he felt a body pressed against his.

"Hey Harry," the voice behind him said. He ran the other direction, trying so hard to get away from the many Dennis Creeveys that kept popping up everywhere, smirking and winking at him. Harry ran out of the Great Hall and down one hallway after another, never seeming to outrun Dennis before he popped up again. He could see his face in every window and hallway, around every corner and down every staircase. His faces never ceased, as if Harry was in an ocean of nothing but Dennis clones, all saying "Hey Harry."

Harry ran all the way into his room and shut the door behind him, breathing heavy. He locked the door and turned around.

There, in the middle of his room, was Tom.

"Harry, what is wrong?"

Harry ran over to Tom and hugged his feet, so glad that he was not another Dennis.


	11. The First Day

Bright and early the morning sun rose over Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers, begging with the utmost urgency to be seen. The many students who had forgotten to pull the curtains around their bed groaned and tried to roll over to hide their eyes, to no avail. Slowly, the student body awoke, readied, and went to breakfast in the Great Hall.

Lily and Albus met up in the Common Room and headed to breakfast together, not bothering to wait for James, who usually slept in as late as he possibly could. They talked about their classes for the day. Lily had Transfiguration. Unfortunately for Albus, he had double potions with Slytherin first thing.

As they entered the Great Hall, Lily and Albus could smell the aroma of eggs and toast. They went and sat down at their usual spots and dug right in, not quite noticing the young boy who was approaching them from the Ravenclaw table.

"Uh, hello."

Lily and Albus paused eating and turned to see who it was.

"Oh," Albus said. He held out his hand for the boy to shake. "Hi there. I'm Albus Potter. This is Lily, my sister."

"I'm Gemini." With a blink, Gemini's turquoise eyes changed to one blue, one brown.

Lily jumped slightly, then stared at his eyes curiously.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Gemini began to back away, eyes going navy.

"No, it's alright. I just wasn't expecting it." Lily explained to a confused Albus, "His eyes are like Teddy's hair. Look."

Albus and Lily watched as Gemini's eyes went from a mid-blue back to turquoise, smiling at each other and the boy.

"That's wicked!" Albus complimented. "I wish I could do that without a wand and a spell."

Gemini's lips perked up at the corners. "Really? It's not weird?"

"Oh no," Lily added. "It's brilliant."

"Thanks," Gemini's cheeks and eyes grew a rosy pink shade. "I, uh, met your dad yesterday on the train. He was awfully nice to me. Got me a bunch of sweets and told me some stories."

Albus smiled and nodded. "Yeah. That sounds like him. Did he tell you the story about the hippogriff?"

Lily giggled, "Oh, I _love_ that one."

"Uh, no," Gemini replied nervously. He'd never gotten this far in a conversation with someone before. Well, at least not when he started the conversation. "He told me the one about Tom Riddle."

They both nodded knowingly.

"He used to tell us that one every time we were angry at each other," Albus added. "Which was a lot of the time." Lily nodded in agreement.

There was a moment of silence before Gemini pulled two chocolate frog cards from behind his back. "I had chocolate frogs for the first time yesterday. I got these cards, but I don't know what to do with them."

Albus and Lily looked them over with astonishment. "You got Ignotus Peverell? On your first try?"

Gemini suddenly began to examine his card, as if it might've been made of gold and he hadn't noticed before. "Why? Is it a rare one?"

The man on the card was thin with straight, ear length black hair and an old fashioned hat with a feather sticking out the top. His mouth, though rather thin and emotionless, gave a small bit of a smirk. In one moment, he was there, and then the next-perhaps during Gemini's blink-he was gone.

" _Oh yes_." Albus, though he dared not take the card out of the boys hand, began to read the back of the card.

"All three of the Peverell brothers are _super rare_ ," Lily explained. "I don't know a single person who has even one."

Gemini glanced between the two as their fascination for the card grew. He wasn't quite sure he valued it as much as the apparently should. "Do you want it?"

"Heavens, no!" Lily was shocked.

"How much?" Albus asked as he stood up, ready to pull out however much he needed to pay.

Gemini shrugged. "Nothing. I don't have a collection, and I'm not sure I could start one even if I wanted to. You can just have it. And, uh…" he looked at the other card. "Helga Hufflepuff, too."

Both Lily and Albus's eyes widened.

"Are you serious?"

"No," Lily laughed, unbelieving. "He must be mad."

"Uh, here. Go ahead." Gemini handed the card to Albus, who took it with great care.

"Oh, wow." Albus glanced around the room, seeing if anyone noticed their exchange at all. If word got out, he'd have people stealing it for sure. "I'm going to run to my room to put this in a safe place. I'll catch you guys later."

Lily smiled and shook her head. "He'll be suspicious for weeks, I'm sure." She looked over at Gemini and patted the bench on the other side of her. "Have you had breakfast, yet?"

Gemini awkwardly made his way to sit next to Lily, not sure of what he was supposed to do. "Uh, no. I don't normally have breakfast."

"Really?" Lily gave him a puzzled look before asking, "Do you not like it or just never up early enough to have any?"

He shrugged. "Neither. Never had anyone to make it for me."

"Oh," Lily looked about the table for something small but delicious for him to try. Nothing was particularly portable. He would need a plate. "Here, try some eggs, then." She grabbed a small spoonful of eggs and put them on the empty plate across the table from where he sat. "They're pretty good." She pulled the plate towards him and smiled.

Though Gemini watched the eggs questionably, as if they would move, he stuck a fork in and pulled a bite out for him to taste. "What is in eggs, again?"

"Uh…" Lily wasn't quite sure how to answer, or if she even know that right answer. "Just eat 'em."

He put the eggs in his mouth and kind of squished them around with his tongue before deciding he liked them. He nodded at Lily and took another bite.

Lily smiled. She liked this boy; he was very kind and brave for not being a Gryffindor.

"What's your first class? I've got Transfiguration."

Gemini swallowed his second bite of eggs. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh good!" Lily beamed. "You can say hi to my dad first thing every Monday morning."

Gemini took another heaping bite of eggs and nodded. He liked this school so far.

As Albus was coming back from his room, he heard an oh-too-irritating voice behind him shout, "So, Potter, I hear your father's here to keep tabs on his babies."

Albus sighed and begrudgingly turned to find Scorpius Malfoy and his gang blocking the way to the Great Hall. "Seriously, Malfoy? Aren't you the one who always says 'My father will hear about this'? You are the _epitome_ of dads watching over their babies."

Around him, Zabini and Parkinson did an overdramatic "Ooooooooooh."

"You hear that vocabulary, Pavo?" Amril Zabini remarked.

"Ooh, yes. Sounds like someone ate a dictionary for breakfast and is spitting it up everywhere," Pavo Parkinson replied.

"Like a baby." Scorpius gave a wicked grin.

"Why do I have to have potions first thing with you every Monday morning," Albus mumbled to himself, rubbing a hand on his forehead. "I don't have time for this. You all are giving me a headache."

"Why don't you run to daddy? I'm sure he can give you some formula and that'll tide you over 'til lunch." Zabini and Parkinson laughed and the group all high-fived.

As much as Albus wanted to hex them right then and there, he had better plans for them that evening. Of course, there was never any harm in a slippery floor spell, now was there?

" _ **Labi Pavimento**_!"

Suddenly, their shoes slipped and they all fell flat on their butts. Albus watched, giggling, as they tried and failed to stand on the floor that was as slippery as ice.

"Well, see you guys in class." Albus ginned and walked the other way towards the dungeons for their Potions class.

* * *

Harry startled himself awake. He had fallen asleep on his book in the library. Again. He rubbed his eyes and checked the enchanted grand-father clock in the far corner of the room.

"Bloody hell, it's almost time for class."

Rushing to get things together, Harry accidently hit himself in the arm with the book he had been reading. He hadn't checked out the book or anything, so he just left it on the table as he rubbed his arm where he had hit it and left the library, rushing over to his classroom near Gryffindor Tower. He looked at clocks on the way, making sure he wasn't going to be late. What kind of example would he set if he arrived late on the very first day of class with the first years?

He needed a watch.

As he turned down the hallway the room was in, he slowed his pace to a reasonable walk and watched as students filed into his classroom. He smiled and took a deep breath, excited. If he was not mistaken, he was set to teach Ravenclaw.

He entered the room and the it fell into a great hush (not very much like the Gryffindor students had ever done). He glanced around, nearly suspicious as to why, almost forgetting that Ravenclaw students were oh-so eager to learn.

"Hello, class. I am Professor Potter." He saw Gemini, sitting eagerly in the front row with purple eyes, and smiled. "Yes, I am _the_ Harry Potter, before you all begin asking. Now, no need to gasp or gape. I am here to teach. Today's lesson," he began, "is about the purpose of this class. Do any of you have questions?"

The class sat in silence a moment before one girl in the back raised her hand.

Harry gestured at her. "Yes, you there. What is your name?"

She stood nervously and said, "Rebecca Smith."

"Alright, Rebecca. And what is your question?"

Rebecca glanced around at all the eyes on her and managed to speak up just barely, "What are the Dark Arts?" before sitting back down in a flash.

"Excellent question, Rebecca." Harry smiled. "Five points to Ravenclaw." Harry turned to pull up a large barstool-like chair over to his spot and sat in it. "The Dark Arts are everything bad and evil about magic. There are wizards and witches, and even creatures, in this world that learn powerful, dangerous things, and try to use these things to get what they want. Now there are a lot of things we can do with magic, but things that cause harm to others, or do things that are unnatural to ourselves, these are things we must protect ourselves and others from." Harry pulled out his wand. "Each of you has one thing that can be used as protection against these terrible things: your wand. The spells you can learn through it can protect you, your friends, and your loved ones. Now," Harry stood and walked a bit. He felt like he was getting into a good zone with this lesson. "I have been through a lot in all my 38 years of life; withstanding curses, defying villains, battling creatures of all types, and I have learned one very important thing through it all." He stopped and stood, glancing around the room. "It's the most important rule in anything you do in life. Defense is always better than offense. Can anyone explain why?"

Many hands shot up at once, and Harry gestured to one boy off in the middle. "Yes, stand up. Say your name."

"Stuart Wittle."

"Alright, Stuart. Why is defense always better than offense?"

"Well," he began, "you can have a strategy defending. You can see the different moves of your opponent and gauge where their weaknesses are."

Harry nodded. "Correct. Any other reasons why defense is always better than offense? Yes, you there."

"I'm Claire Baker. And defense is better than offense because you can utilize whatever resources you have that the attacker doesn't have by going to attack you."

"Hmmm," Harry thought. "Like in war, you mean? When one army goes to attack another, the defending army has a home-advantage."

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. That is also correct. Now, I'm sure you can all give me thousands of factual reasons as to why defending is better, but I've got one particular thing in mind I'd like you all to know and learn from." Sitting back down, Harry continued, "When you are defending something, or against something, you have something the attacker wants. Now, this something could be something valuable like a jewel, or metaphorical like their family honor, or plainly literal as a clear path between them and what they really want. When you are defending against powerful dark magic, you have to remember that you don't want anything from the battle. No matter how much you feel in danger or at risk, what makes you better than the attacker is that you are willing to drop your hatred and your pride in order to stop the attacker. Sacrifice, not just of yourself, but of ideas and things you once knew." At their confused looks, Harry went on. "Let me tell you a story about a boy named Tom Riddle."

* * *

"Ten points to Slytherin. Well done." Theo wrote on the board. "Antidote to poisons. Very useful."

At that moment, Scorpius, Pavo, and Amril came in to class.

"Severely late on your first day, Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson. _Unacceptable_. Detention, all of you. This weekend. With Sandal."

The trio groaned and sat in their seats. Albus tried hiding his mischievous smile.

"Now, we were just discussing the uses for the type of potions I assigned you to read about this summer. Malfoy, name me one."

Scorpius read over the board (lucky for him there were only two out of the five possible uses on it). "Mild sedative."

Theo gave a nod. "Correct," he said as he wrote it on the board. "Parkinson," he could tell from the over-confident look on Pavo's face that he had not read anything over the break. "Name another."

Pavo, Theo knew from his last two years here at Hogwarts, was flamboyant, outgoing, and completely unmotivated to learn anything potions related, barely passing his class at all. He was sure Pavo's mother, Pansy, had everything to do with it.

"I don't know." Pavo smiled. Was he chewing gum? "Can it color my hair purple?"

Sometimes Theo wished he was as intimidating as Professor Snape had been.

Theo picked up the trash bin and held it out for Pavo to spit his gum into. "Every time you chew gum in this class from now on, I will give you detention and take twenty points from Slytherin. Do I make myself clear?"

Pavo seemed offended, but spit out his gum peacefully.

"Zabini. Name one more use."

"Doesn't it have some kind of cleaning thing in it?"

Theo sighed. "Yes, cleaning product." He wrote that on the board. "Anything else? Anyone?"

Scorpius raised his hand, as did Rose. Why did none of his students do their work over summer?

"Yes," he said, slightly exasperated, "Weasley."

"It helps thin out blood and works as a perfume."

"Thank you." Theo wrote those items on the board. "Now, honestly, I don't give you all much homework. I know you don't think this is a serious class, but I suggest you get serious really soon because I am having you test all your own potions this year." Theo looked around the room at all the scared faces and hoped that would motivate them later on. "Now, I want you all to read about antidotes in the next chapter for Wednesday. Class dismissed."

"But professor, it's much too early for class to be over." Rose looked sad.

"I know. But I also know that there is nothing else in this lesson to teach. I've dismissed class early." Theo shooed her towards the door as all the other students filed out of the room.

Once the room was empty, Theo sat behind his desk and groaned. Why was it that he enjoyed the Ravenclaw students over his own? What did those damn pureblood lovers teach their children? He figured they were probably all spoiled rotten to the core, just like they always have been. He sighed. Theo used to be one of them.

* * *

It had been a longer day than Harry had expected, but it was finally coming to a close as his last class for the day came in. However, Harry was more than sure that it would not be an easy one.

Slytherin seventh years came in clumps to class. When they glide over to their seats, robes floating around their feet, they take their seats with smirks naturally on their faces. Harry didn't know what they expected of him, or even what to expect of them, but he would play it by ear, reading the signs they gave him. As the last few took their seats, Harry glanced at his clock and noted that none of them were on time; they were all at least five minutes early. He could respect that.

"Hello, class. As you know, I'm Professor Potter, and this is Defense Against the Dark Arts, N.E.W.T. level." Harry scanned the classroom. "But the point of this class, specifically, is not for me to tell you how and what to do, but for you all to learn how and what to do. What are your strengths? What are your weaknesses? What have you forgotten over the summer?" Harry smirked along with them. "Think of this class more as a training camp for whatever you will be doing in the future." He paused. "Come to think of it, what do you all want to do after graduation?"

One guy raised his hand.

"You really don't expect me to call on you like a first year, do you?" Harry remarked.

There were muffled giggles as the guy put his hand down, red trimming his ears. "I'm going to be an auror."

Harry smiled. "Fantastic. This class will definitely make sure you are ready for that. Anyone else?"

"I'm going to travel the world," one girl said.

"I want to go into the Ministry."

"Spell-maker."

"I'm going to write the textbook."

The excitement in the room made Harry even more ready to challenge them. "Alright. This class will most certainly be useful to all of those occupations. What about those of you who don't know?"

There were a few who looked down at their hands.

"What can you do with Defense Against the Dark Arts? Why did you take this class? Did you like it? Does it come naturally to you? Did a professor or parents tell you to take it?" He glared pointedly, seeing if anyone would say. "Raise your hand if you don't want to be here. Come on, be honest."

After a few moments hesitation, a few unsteady hands rose up into the air.

"Not something you all are interested in, then?" He waited for then to shake their heads, and nodded. "Well, I won't drop you from the class, but you all can pick if you want to participate in training or if you want to help me in planning and carrying out each lesson. This class will need a lot from both sides, trust me. Now," Harry grabbed his wand, "tell me what you've all learned in six years of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm not talking about theory, like the difference between a werewolf and whatever, I mean something really fun that stuck with you."

"We learned to paralyze pixies!"

"Ooh. Nasty little things, pixies. Alright," Harry flicked his wand at the board and the words seemed to write themselves in chalk. "What else?"

"We learned quite a few hexes."

"Always fun." The word appeared on the board.

"We met a werewolf."

Harry, confused, looked to the student. "You what?"

"We met a werewolf. He took special potions to keep from changing. He told us about what it was like."

Slowly, Harry nodded. "Okay, but that one isn't really something you learned to do."

Each of the students fired off one thing after another, from patronus charms to counter-curses, and before long the board was full, but Harry saw one thing on there he couldn't let them miss.

" _Oh…_ " he said, incredulous, " _no one's_ learned about animagi?" His eyes lit up.

"We learned about animagi in third year Transfiguration," said one guy, near the back, "it just wasn't fun."

"Yeah," piped up another, "It was just theory."

"Theory, of course. I'm talking about the real deal. Have you ever met one of those? Figured out how it's done?" They all shrugged. "No? _OH_ , then first we are having a lesson on this."

"I thought you said this was training camp."

"Oh, right," Harry said. "Training lesson, then," he corrected. Putting his wand down and pulling off his robes, he began his transformation, speedily growing from man to stag.

The class, though impressed, did little other than gape.

Stag Harry pounded the ground with his front hoof and held up his chest high. He remembered the fateful day in training at the Auror Academy, realizing he was a stag just like his father. The memory brought peace to him for a moment as he reveled in it.

The board behind him erased itself and wrote, _Explain the transformation._

"You went from being a person to being a moose."

Stag Harry made a small bellow and shook his antlers.

_I'm a stag, clearly not a moose_ , the board wrote.

"Your body just…" a girl, still quite surprised, "morphed into…a stag."

With a bow, Stag Harry shrunk back into normal Harry. "Brilliant." He straightened his crooked tie and dusted off his pants. "If you do want to become an animagus, I suggest wearing commonplace clothing when you do so. Otherwise you may find that pieces of your clothes may not transform with you."

"What do you mean if we want to become an animagus?"

Harry smiled. "That was just a showing. Now, obviously I can't force you all to become animagi, and I'm not going to take up class time trying to get you to learn something when we have other things to do, but," he looked around at all the faces before him, "if you want to become an animagus, I'll see if I can get special permission from the Headmistress to have sessions where we go through the process. We'll talk about this more next class. As for this class," Harry picked up his wand. "we've got some training to do."


	12. A Weekend to Never Forget

The week began to speed by as Harry lived it. All of his students were so excited to see what he had to offer them, even his forced seventh years. He had went and asked Padma about the animagus training, and she worked with him and Roger Davies, the Transfiguration professor, to plan it all out and allow necessary precautions if something went wrong. It was to be every school day just after dinner for approximately two hours, beginning next week, and at the end, they would have a field trip to the Ministry to register, which every successful student was to attend. The only possible stigma of the whole ordeal was that it was to be held in a classroom around the corner from the Hospital Wing. Though Harry didn't think it was necessary, he let it happen. Harry had already posted the sign-up sheet outside the door to his classroom, with a strong age line around it. He grew excited as he watched the list growing day by day. He was ready and he hoped his students were ready, as well.

As for his younger students, they were excelling at his first lessons. His first years were learning about various creatures, from Bowtruckles to Werewolves, and the dangers they presented. His second years were already ahead of schedule on their jinxes, moving onto the Melofors Jinx, which encased a person's head in a pumpkin. His third years were learning all the theory to Boggarts before Harry put them in front of one, as well as the Riddikulus Charm. His fourth years were beginning on various hexes and Shielding Charms to stop them. The fifth years were leaning about the darker creatures, such as Dementors and Inferi, and how to defend themselves against them, and the sixth years were beginning their dueling lessons, nonverbally. His seventh years were currently learning some theory on nonverbal curses, but needed to move onto the practical side.

"I know it's the last class of the day on Friday," Harry began, "but honestly, I'm trying to help you out."

His seventh year Gryffindors were proving to be the jokesters of the school.

"Unless, of course, you'd rather me make you all throw curses at one another." Harry gave a pointed glare at the two in the back who had been giggling. They quickly silenced. "That's what I thought."

Harry flicked his wand and the left corner of the room began to turn. On the other side was a full-length mirror, trimmed in a beautiful bronze frame.

"This," he announced, "is a kind of enchanted mirror. It allows for a wizard to send a spell at the mirror and see the effects of the spell without actually harming anyone in the process. The only downside is," Harry walked over to the mirror, wand at the ready, "you have to watch yourself get hit with the curse." Harry took a breath. " _ **Confringo**_!" The spell shot right at the mirror and the reflection of Harry exploded. He turned around to his students. "Now, who'd like to try it?"

His students, though their faces seemed very unsure, stood and made their way over to the mirror, forming a line, even if Harry did not prompt them to. They all took turns, each shooting all of the curses Harry had gone over with them the past week, most of them new, but simple enough for the Seventh Years' skills.

"Very well done, class. Twenty points to Gryffindor for everyone successfully casting every spell. I expect your hard work to keep up into next week's training. I want to see the Great Hall decorated in red and gold at the end of the year. Next week we will be working on the Unforgivable Curses, and how to protect yourselves against them. I've asked Headmistress Patil to sit in on a couple of the sessions, so I can have absolutely no liability problems." Harry smirked as the students glanced around among themselves with worried looks. "I suggest studying. Class is dismissed. I hope to see you all right after dinner on Monday for Animagus training."

The classroom emptied and Harry flicked his wand to put the mirror away. He gathered his things and looked at his watch before decided to head to his room. It had been a long week, as much fun as it had been. He could use a nap.

Harry entered his room and set his wand down, as well as his papers. He stretched and yawned, letting his sleepiness take over him. Falling back onto his bed, he took a few sleepy blinks. He was about to close his eyes when he noticed something odd. Tom seemed to be yelling furiously at him, but no sound was coming out.

" _ **Finite**_ ," Harry cast at the portrait, slightly moving his hand at him instead of his wand.

"-YOU INSOLENT _BRAT_!"

The sudden loudness startled Harry from his sleepy state.

"What? What did I do?"

"You cast a silencing charm on me and _never removed it_!" Tom's murderous glare brought up a bit of fear in Harry's chest.

"What? I did not."

"You did. Wednesday night as you were heading to sleep."

Harry was about to defend himself further, but remembered vaguely that Tom had been nagging him about getting Tom out of portrait form when Harry had been trying to sleep. "Okay, well, I took it off now, didn't I?" Of course, he knew now that he probably shouldn't have if he wanted to nap.

"I have been trying to find other means of communication for _days_ ," Tom replied, his voice dangerously quiet. "Have you or have you not continued reading that book you began on Monday?"

Harry groaned. "No. I've been busy teaching. And I want a nap. It's been a long week."

"Has it been a long week for you, _Potter_?" Tom spat his name out as if it disgusted him. "Imagine how long it would be if you were in a portrait with nowhere to go and not even being able to speak to the _one_ person you ever have contact with."

With a sigh, Harry apologized. "Look, I'm sorry. I've been so focused on myself and my students." Harry got up, not really sure as to why until he said, "I'll go check out the book right now. Then I can just read it here."

Tom nodded, and Harry walked out the door, wondering the whole time _why._ Why was he listening to Tom? Why was he looking into making Tom into something that didn't need to be hung up on a wall? He knew it was a bad idea, but he still intended to do it. Why? There was this feeling overtaking his stomach, turning it to a thick piece of ice. Why did Tom want to be something else if not to do something bad? And _why_ was Harry complying if he knew this was true? As he walked into the library, found the book, checked it out, and began to walk back, Harry came to a clearer understanding of himself.

He felt bad for Tom.

Harry had been telling the story of Tom Riddle for all these years, and never ceased to make Tom Riddle the victim of the story. Tom had been the unfortunate boy that no one cared to save. And it could have been anyone; Dumbledore, Slughorn, even one of the ladies at the orphanage, any of the families who came through to adopt a child. It could have been anyone, but no one did. The thought made Harry sad, and the feeling provoked another thought: Who saved Harry? Was it the letters, saying he was a wizard? Had it been Hagrid, taking him from that house, explaining the wizarding world to him? Maybe it had been the Weasley's showing him kindness that day at King's Cross, or Ron on the Hogwarts Express. Or maybe it had been himself, as the sorting hat almost put him into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. In reality, it had probably been all of these things, since all of these things made Harry who he was today, and not another version of Tom Riddle. In the back of his mind, he wondered if there could ever have been such a thing as two Tom Riddles.

He got back to the room, book in hand, and began flipping through to where he had left off. "So far," Harry told Tom, "I've figured out how to turn you from a moving portrait into a moving photograph."

Tom grumbled, more to himself than Harry, "That would be so much worse."

"Let's see…" Harry flipped back to the Table of Contents and began to read the chapters aloud, "Potraits and all about them. Turning Portraits into Photographs. Doorways. Portals. Garden gnomes…" Harry smiled up at Tom. "I could make you into a garden gnome!"

"If you wish to live past the age you are currently at, I would suggest not."

Harry fake pouted. "No fun," he mumbled. "Alright then. Uh…" he found his place once more. "Jewlery. Statues. Modern Art Pieces."

Harry was about to ask a question when Tom interrupted, "Do not even _think_ about it."

Slightly offended, Harry continued on. "Animals. Animals? There's a bunch of subchapters under this one. Mammals, birds, magical creatures-"

"I do not wish to be a savage beast."

"Too late, Mr. Picky," Harry replied under his breath. "Uh," his eyes scanned down the rest of the page, found nothing but more categories of animals, and flipped to the next, "Furniture. How do they go from animals to furniture?" He sighed. "Tom, what are we looking for?"

"Let me see the book," Tom demanded.

"How?" Harry poked at his canvas. "In case you are wondering, you are two-dimensional."

Tom placed a hand on his forehead and took a breath. "Potter, do you never think? Hold it out in front of me."

Harry could tell the "you insolent brat" was implied, but he did as was told.

Looking down the contents page, Tom knew immediately that this book was different from the one he had in his library. He wondered if, somehow, his library was still around. It had been 21 years, but his wards had been phenomenal. Surely it would still be protected, even after his passing…

"This book is utter rubbish. Return it at once."

Harry huffed. "There's _nothing_ in here worth reading?" Though clearly he was protesting, Harry made his way out the door and back to the library.

Tom pondered to himself. Most of his wards would still be up. Would Harry be able to get in without blasting them both to dust? Probably not. But what other choice did he have? No one was ever allowed into his private house. No one except Snape and the Malfoys…

Maybe they would require some more help, then. He wondered quite how long these twenty one years had been for the Malfoys. He was sure that the youngest Malfoy was still alive. Could he be sure that Lucius had been taken to Azkaban, or worse? He would need to find out.

Harry re-entered the room, empty-handed. "What do you want me to do, Tom? That was the only book on the subject in the whole Hogwarts library."

"There is another library. I believe I read a book there once that will aid us in our predicament. However, we will need more help to get in." Tom scanned Harry's body language for his reaction.

Harry was less-than pleased. "Another library? Where? Albania? How am I supposed to know where it is? And we'll need help to get in? Is it booby-trapped?" He looked to the painted man and saw his brown eyes staring; he suddenly felt much smaller than he really was.

"In a way," Tom began. Though Harry sounded frustrated, his body language did not match his tone. What was Harry feeling, and how could Tom play it to his advantage? "And unfortunately this help needs to come from a Malfoy."

With a groan, Harry landed, face-down, onto his bed. "A Malfoy?" he said, muffled by his sheets. A blush came about his cheeks as he could feel the eyes still on him intently.

"Yes. Preferably Lucius Malfoy."

He groaned again. "Is there any part of this that isn't absolutely vile?" Harry attempted to take control of his face and the blood rushing to it.

"For you," Tom could sense something on the boy. Was he nervous? No, that wasn't quite it. "probably not."

"Thank you for your honesty," he replied flatly as he turned and sat up. He sighed. He couldn't believe he was about to agree to do this for a portrait. But then again, maybe he shouldn't be so surprised. "Alright. Well, how do I get in contact with Malfoy?"

Tom shrugged rather half-heartedly. "That is your choice. I expect an owl will be quick enough to get the job done by tonight."

"Woah, tonight?" Harry stood, hands out in front of him. "We're doing all this _tonight_?"

"Yes. I assumed that was why you asked how to contact him." Tom overlooked Harry once more, suddenly suspicious of what he would say next.

"I…I can't do it tonight." Harry relaxed his hands. "I've got plans."

"With who?" Tom was sure he was making it up. When would Harry have had time to make plans if he was so busy with his students?

"With Theodore. He asked me to hang out with him after dinner tonight."

Tom eyed him quite amusingly. "A date? I never pegged you as the type to enjoy a man's company."

Harry blushed furiously. "No! Not a date. He said he was going to invite some female professors from Beauxbatons. And I _do not_ enjoy a man's company. Not in that way." Harry crossed his arms as if he were mad. "We are good friends."

"I see," Tom replied simply. "Then perhaps tomorrow night." He still eyed him curiously, that amused look on his face.

He couldn't even meet Tom's eyes anymore. Harry stared at the floor. "Alright. Well, it's time for dinner." He grabbed his wand and left out the door, not even bothering to take his robes with him.

Oh how he disliked the discomfort that man made him feel.

It wasn't quite time for dinner yet, so Harry made his way up to the owlery. He didn't want to have any contact with Lucius Malfoy, of all people, but…but what? Why was he doing this? A big red flag kept waving in Harry's mind that said " _nothing but trouble, nothing but trouble,_ " and yet he was still going to do it? Did feeling bad for someone really extend this far?

Maybe Harry related to Tom. They could have ended up the same person, in theory. They were two wizards, marked as equals, with brother wands and dead parents. It all seemed so coincidental, as if the universe had been trying to push them to kill each other since day one. Nevermind the fact that they were due to live in different generations, or that the actions of Voldemort are what made Harry like Tom. It was as if the universe had cut some corners to be able to make it happen in the first place. What the hell was the universe thinking?

Harry took the final staircase to the owlery, wand out. " _ **Accio ink and parchment**_." From Gryffindor Tower, a bottle of ink and parchment flew into Harry's waiting hands. He quickly transfigured a feather from the ground into a quill and began to ponder what one says to an ex-death eater when one needs him to help him sneak into somewhere.

Come to think of it, why did Tom need Malfoy _specifically_ to help them? Lucius Malfoy, one of the most trusted servants of Voldemort back in his prime; was this library in a death eater headquarters, long abandoned? Or perhaps in Malfoy Manor itself?

Harry decided to just go with whatever popped into his head.

_Lucius Malfoy,_

_Hi. I'm sure this is going to sound daft, but I need some help from you. It is a very long, complicated story, really, but it ends with me needing your help to break into a library to get a book on magical portraits. Now, I don't know where this library is, and frankly, since I need your help, I'm quite frightened about where its location will end up being. Honestly, I'm sure you will most likely consider turning down my offer, or simply ignoring this letter, but I really hope you will reconsider. Please and thank you._

_Harry Potter_

He felt his confidence in the letter sink as he reread it, but rolled it up and tied it to an owl anyway. The owl gave a soft hoot, as if it wanted to cuddle. Harry moved his hand to pet it, but it made a move to bite his fingers, barely missing. "Shoo!" Harry pulled back his hands, and the owl clicked its beak and flew off. He stood there a moment, watching the rather rude brown owl soar into the distance, remembering fondly when snow white feathers had done the same all those years ago. It was times like these when he missed Hedwig most. He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

Harry sighed and left the owlery, pushing away his thoughts about Hedwig and instead to thoughts on after dinner. He hoped it would be fun, and get him back on his feet after the whole thing with Ginny. He was sure he wasn't ready for a relationship just yet, even if he no longer loved Ginny, but there was no harm in having a bit of a stag night, was there?

When Harry entered the Great Hall, it was already full with students and professors, enjoying the very beginnings of their food. Upon seeing his entrance, Neville and Theo smiled. He quickly made his way to his seat between the two and was immediately added to their conversation.

"So, Harry, how was your week?"

"Fantastic!" Harry replied, piling potatoes onto his plate. "All of my students are progressing faster than I expected, and I've got an animagus training for the seventh years all ready to go."

"Animagus training?" Theo asked, confused. "What do they need to become animaguses…animagussess…why would any of them need to be an animagus?"

"It's actually very useful for being an auror. They make everyone do it at the academy anyway, so I figured it'd really help them out. It's not required, of course, but I still had loads of them sign up."

Neville nodded. "I remember the day I finally got it and realized my animagus a lioness. Got made fun of for a while, but someone told me Godric Gryffindor would be proud." He smiled at Harry.

"Speaking of, you know what I found out, Neville, almost as soon as you left? Lionesses do all the hunting." Harry sat back in his chair and grinned.

"They do?" Neville smiled bigger. "Neat."

"Anyway, how was your week? Both of you." Harry began digging in to his food, hoping his friends would fill the silence of him eating.

"Terrible," Theo replied. "I don't know how to motivate my students. Without a Snape breathing down their backs, potions class isn't as respected as it used to be."

"Try using the Slughorn method," Harry replied, with half a full mouth.

"That's a great idea, Theo," joined in Neville. "Make the students have a competition and whoever wins gets some fancy potion they'd never be able to brew themselves."

Theo let a smile creep onto his face as he thought about it. "I suppose I could do that. Start some drama, maybe, too. Let them compete for a love potion."

"The luck potion was a fun one. I recommend that one too." Harry took another bite of potatoes.

"Alright. Thanks, I'll try that."

"My week was actually pretty nice. I've got quite a few students showing some real talent for Herbology."Neville nibbled proudly on his bread.

"By the way," Harry swallowed his food, "Do you happen to have a large amount of Mandrake leaves?"

Neville seemed curious for a moment, but understood the connection after some thought. "Yeah, how many sevenths years you got?"

"At least twenty, maybe thirty."

Neville nodded. "May just be enough, then. I'll have my second years working on mandrakes soon, anyway."

Harry clapped him on the back, "Thanks, mate."

Soon, it seemed, they had all finished dinner and the students were heading back to their houses. Harry and Theo said goodbye to Neville, who wished them good fun, and began to make their way down to the dungeons.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Theo asked with a smooth smile and a sense of aloofness about him.

"Yeah," Harry replied. He was giddy, in fact. Absolutely ready for this time to relax and enjoy whatever became of the night.

"Good," Theo said, "because there are two hot-"

Theo stopped abruptly, causing Harry to walk past him a bit before stopping and turning to Theo. Looking around slowly, Theo did not move at all, as if he had heard something and was trying to place it. Harry didn't dare move, for he was sure breaking the silence wouldn't help. After a moment, Theo moved closer to Harry to whisper " _ **Silencio**_ " on their feet and pulled the other man forward, quietly. As they began walking again, Harry began to hear it: the tail ends of whispered words and the patter of feet in rhythm with their own. Theo and Harry met eyes, an unspoken communication between two men who had seen war, and Theo nodded.

Harry turned and cast out, " _ **Homenum Revelio**_ ," feeling the presence of five bodies, two directly in front of him and three more around the corner. "I know you are there. Show yourselves."

One of his Gryffindor seventh years appeared, letting his Disillusionment charm fall. In one hand was a box of something that stated _Weasley's Wizard_ Wheezes on the side, and in his other was his wand. "You caught me," he said, attempting to hide a smirk.

Harry recognized that box. He, himself, had bought a box like that for James over Christmas. If Harry was correct, he had to take down several things before both he and Theo were covered in slimey goo. Harry glanced around the floor a bit, finding one marker that they had already past, meaning the whole trick was nearly set off. "Don't move" he whispered to Theo. " _ **Finte Incantatem**_." All at once, the other Gryffindor students were revealed, all in his class. "And now I've caught all of you. Detention. This Wednesday. Instead of Quidditch practice."

Two of the students looked panic. "But we have a game against Slytherin coming up, Professor!"

"Then you should have thought about that before you decided to play a prank on the new Defense teacher. Now then," Harry pointed his wand upward, "Theo, hold up a shield around us for a moment." Theo nodded. " _ **Bombarda Maxima**_." Within seconds, the huge bucket that had been floating above their heads exploded, sending slime everywhere. Harry sent a quick _**Scorgify**_ around their shield, and Theo let it go. Both of them were perfectly clean, not a speck of slimey goo on them. The students, however, were covered.

"Alright, now. Off to bed with all of you," Theo said, making a shooing movement with his hands. "Explain this to your friends."

The students went off, attempting to clean themselves with the same cleaning charm, only to find that the slimey goo came back slimier and gooier than before. It was safe to assume that they would not be headed anywhere but for the showers.

Harry and Theo continued onward.

"Harry, they waited a whole week to try to get you?" Theo's tone was close to shock.

"Yeah, I guess. Why? Do they always target the new professor?" Harry was suddenly worried that he wasn't up-to-date with the merchandise at his (ex) brother-in-law's shop.

"Normally, they attack day one. Must've been planning something really special, then. I'd keep a lookout." Theo pointed at a door and slowed his pace. "Here we are. Cave, sweet cave." He pointed his wand at several points on the door and took a step back. In a moment, the door seemed to have little worms moving all over it, there was a click, and the door hardened once more and swung open.

Theo was not exaggerating when he had been describing his man-cave. Harry glanced around in a mixture of awe and arousal as beautifully painted ladies moved around on huge portraits that donned three walls, wearing anything from a short skirt and crop top to a bikini. The ceiling was high enough for three stories, but there was only one set of polished oak stairs that let up to one polished oak door. The walls, a deep, rich gold, had a moving pattern so detailed it seemed to have little Greek Gods carved into it, arms up as if they were living and breathing. There was a large, crimson couch in the middle of the room, right before the black stone fireplace, filled with sparkling green glass instead of wood. Atop the fireplace there was but a large, rather unimpressive jar.

"Oh, Theo! You're back!" All the portrait girls smiled and greeted Theo as he came in and sat down on the couch.

"Girls," he said, "I'd like you to meet my friend, Harry. He's famous, actually. Been in the newspaper many times."

Harry watched as the girls all fawned over him. It felt good, as if he had not really been attractive until they saw him.

Sitting down on the couch next to Theo, Harry relaxed as the cushions seemed to absorb him. "This is nice, mate."

"You haven't even seen it all." Theo flicked his wand at the far wall and the wall turned to reveal a bar, complete with four barstools. "It's got everything you could ever want on tap." They both smiled. "Let's get drinking."


	13. Saison D'été

Harry awoke to his head pounding and a bright light over him. He could've sworn that last night had been fun, but something in his gut now told him something went wrong. Trying hard to sit up, Harry managed to roll himself over and get to his hands and knees. Apparently, he had fallen asleep on the floor in front of the couch, fully clothed. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the room.

All of the women on the portraits around them were now naked and asleep. Harry momentarily enjoyed looking over their bodies-slim, fit, and youthful-before standing unsteadily and searching the room some more. The counter of the bar was filled with empty glasses of all shapes and sizes, a few, from what Harry could tell, had lipstick around the rims. The room, aside from that, was empty. Harry raised his head so he could look at the door at the top of the stairs and found that the door was open.

_That must be where Theo is_.

He slowly regained his ability to balance while walking and made his way over to and up the stairs. At the top, he peeked through the doorway and nearly gasped. It was a bedroom, as beautifully decorated as the room below. In the bed was a naked Theo, barely covered by a golden sheet, _several_ women all laying around or draped over him, also naked, and many, many articles of clothing thrown carelessly onto the floor. There was a nightstand on the right of the bed overflowing with more empty glasses, with a couple glasses fallen onto the black carpet below. Harry could only draw one conclusion from this: Theo was a god and Harry had not scored anything.

_Figures._

Harry walked back down the stairs and out the room, staying as quiet as possible. As he walked close to the Great Hall, he could smell the beautiful scent of breakfast wafting his way. Harry supposed he hadn't gotten up too late, then. Just the scent alone made his stomach begin to growl, so he figured he should go eat. Food sounded like a good idea.

He made his way to his seat in the Great Hall between two empty seats. He filled his plate with delicious food, and just as he was about to take his first bite, he heard his name.

"Harry!" Dennis Creevey came up behind him. "Hi. Oh, I hope I didn't startle you. You can go ahead and eat, I'm just going to tell you some information about the Cook-Out." He pulled a sheet of paper out from behind his back. "I've got the sign-up sheet all ready, and I've already signed up for brownies. My mom always made the best brownies; I was going to try and use her recipe. Anyway, here. You can keep this copy. Sign up is on the back, and all the information for when and where is on the front. The sign-up sheet is charmed so that when you write what you're bringing, everyone else who has a sheet can see it as well. Alright. That's…uh…"Dennis swallowed hard. "…that's all I've got about that." He stood there silently a moment as Harry ate his food. Dennis seemed to really be focusing hard on saying something. Was he sweating? "Harry, I know it's probably not allowed, but…" Dennis leaned in a little closer to Harry, "Can I be a part of your animagus class? I know it's just for students, but I've really wanted to become and animagus, but I just haven't been able to."

Harry swallowed his food and was about to speak when Dennis continued on.

"I'm sure Padma gave you rules about that. Maybe I'll just keep trying to figure it out on my own. I'm sorry for bothering you."

As he was walking away, Harry called out, "Dennis!" The thin man turned and looked, confused, at Harry. "Dennis, yes, you can come to the training. It's for anyone, seventh year or above. You're allowed to come and I'll help you out."

Dennis's expression of shame quickly melted into utter glee. "Oh, thank you, Harry! I'll see you Monday night. Thank you." With that, Dennis seemed to skip back to his seat.

For a moment, there, Harry had thought Dennis was going to ask him out. It had been a relief to hear that he just wanted to become an animagus. Harry didn't think he could handle that nightmare of his coming true. But really, a more practical side of him thought, _is being homosexual really that bad?_ Harry supposed not, but that didn't mean he would be into Dennis, just like he would ever be into Hermione. Sure, they could be friends, but anything else was just weird for him. Friends stay friends and more will be more.

Harry smiled as he finished his meal, feeling a bit better about the whole situation. Men can like men, and that's alright. He felt less awkward about the situation.

As he finished his food, he realized almost everyone else was done and gone from the Great Hall. He had been rather late to get to breakfast, so Harry didn't mind it. He got up and walked out of the Great Hall, only to find that a small boy with mousy blonde hair and bright violet eyes waiting for him outside its doors.

"Hello, Gemini. How has your first week at Hogwarts been?" Harry felt rather well, considering the night before, and found the small talk to come easily.

"Great, Professor!" Gemini smiled as big as Harry had ever seen. "My classes are rather interesting. Especially Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry could feel the compliment in his chest. "Well, you are a very talented student. I'm sure you'll only improve throughout the year."

Gemini nodded and looked to his feet. "Professor, can I ask you a question?" His eyes dulled from the bright purple to a pastel shade.

"Of course, Gemini. What is it?"

The boy bit his lip a moment before looking up with pale indigo eyes. "I know it's probably mad to ask, but could I participate in your animagus class?"

For a moment, Harry was caught off guard. "My animagus class? Gemini, please understand that becoming and animagus is a _very_ complicated and dangerous piece of transfiguration. Full grown wizards who have graduated from Hogwarts get stuck with this kind of magic. Headmistress Patil put an age-limit on it for a reason." He watched as the boy's hopeful face smoothed out and pastel eyes went back to their original colors of blue and brown. Was he hiding how he felt? Surely he wasn't actually calmed about the situation.

"Alright, Professor." The boy bowed his head.

"Gemini," Harry said, before even thinking about it, "if you can get a note from Professor Davies that says he recommends the class for you, or at least says that you are skilled enough to be able to perform the transformation successfully without harming yourself, we can go and talk to the Headmistress about it tomorrow. However, as your Defense professor, I expect you to keep up with your normal studies and homework as well as with the animagus training. There will be no slacking off on either." Though Harry had his utterly-strict father-voice on, Gemini seemed to gleam as his eyes glowed purple.

"Yes, thank you Professor. I'll go get that right now. Thank you so much." Gemini quickly ran off towards Ravenclaw Tower.

Harry sighed to himself. He tried to act very strict, but really, he was a big push-over. How he had ever been a leader of anyone was a mystery. Or was it? He mumbled to himself about mutual respect and brushed it off.

His feet carried him all the way to his room near Gryffindor Tower and dropped himself onto his bed. He was nearly completely at ease until he felt eyes staring at him and remembered, for probably the hundredth time since receiving the portrait, that Tom was in the room. Instead of waiting for the other man to scare him, he greeted him.

"Hello, Tom. Did you sleep well?"

Tom gave a bow of his head as a sort of nod. "Yes, actually. Not waking in the middle of the night to the muffled screams of another is rather nice."

"Muffled screams? I thought you loved screams, Mr. Voldemort, sir." Harry gave his voice a joking tone, but wasn't actually sure if he was joking or not.

"Only when my victims are completely at my mercy, not when I am attempting to sleep through the night." Tom smirked with distant eyes, as if remembering all the good times that he murdered innocent people.

"Wonderful," Harry stated flatly. "Maybe you'll be sleeping better after tonight when you will no longer hang in my room."

"Harry," Tom began, his voice rather parent-like. "The process of changing me into something else with most spells will not be an easy one, nor will it be quick. The entire process could take anywhere from hours to weeks. Hopefully not months…"

"Weeks?" Harry groaned. "But Tom, I can hardly stand you right now, only nagging me when I'm back from classes. No offense."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I doubt you mean anything kind by that comment, but I suppose I see your point. I may be a portrait, but sleep is important and I will not last weeks without it...hmmmm…" Tom put on a show of pondering. "I think I read one spell in the book that took hardly an hour. Though, I cannot quite recall what it was for…" Tom glanced over at Harry, curious as to his reaction.

Harry perked up. "Really? That would really be great, Tom. We could finally have our privacy again."

Tom nodded in agreement, a slight smile on his maliciously charming features. "Can you contact Lucius Malfoy, then? We need his compliance as soon as possible."

"I already have," Harry replied. "On my way to dinner yesterday. He hasn't replied yet, I don't think."

Tom's brow furrowed. "Last night at dinner? Surely there was a reply from him. He had always been one to respond quickly, even with a simple rejection letter. Surely you got it sometime last night while you were…" he was about to say "on a date," but thought better of it, "in the company of your friend."

"Well, if I did get it, I probably didn't understand what it was." Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. "I woke up this morning completely hung-over and Theo had taken all the ladies for himself. Not quite the environment for receiving letters." He thought a moment. "Can an owl even get in there? Hm."

He got off the bed and decided to quickly get ready so he could ask Theo if he got a letter last night. As Harry removed his shirt, toothbrush in mouth, he felt a pair of eyes on him. Though he tried to brush the feeling off, it made him blush. He was being stared at, and he didn't like how uncomfortable it made him.

Mustering up his Gryffindor courage, Harry stared at Tom back. Tom realized Harry had caught him scheming, but simply said, "What?"

"Whash lou lookin aht?" Harry said, letting little specks of toothpaste fly as he spoke.

Tom simply shrugged.

Harry was about to reply, but decided to rinse his mouth first. After a moment, he returned. "What? Have you never seen anyone with some of their clothes off before?"

Tom's smirk grew into a wicked grin. Distraction was always best. "Quite the contrary."

A few silent seconds passed as Harry let a blush grow on his face. "I would appreciate it if you would stop."

"Why? Are you afraid of me? I am nothing but a portrait. What can I do?" Tom could hardly feign innocence, even when he tried. Harry did not buy it for a moment.

Harry began to put another shirt on and mumbled to himself, "It's not like there's anything to look at."

Though Tom heard the comment, he held his tongue.

Harry quickly finished changing in the bathroom and somewhat tamed his crazy hair. "Alright, I'm going to ask Theo if he remembers anything. I'll be back soon."

He quickly escaped out the door, an odd feeling rising in his chest. Had he really just told the very man that had killed his parents, his friends, to not look at him? He wasn't even sure what kind of looking it was. It felt odd.

As he made his way to the dungeons, he wondered if Theo was even up yet. Judging by the amount of glasses all over the place, he assumed that everyone had been completely wasted last night, himself included. But, he didn't feel as if he had been drunk at all last night. In fact, this was the best he had felt in a while. There had been some difficulty this morning, but was that really it? All of the times he could remember the day after getting drunk, he had been pretty incapacitated the entire next day. What was different now? Did Theo give him something and he just couldn't remember? Would Theo even be able to remember?

Harry arrived before the door that led to Theo's man-cave, and simply knocked, hoping that would work well enough. After standing there a moment in silence, he could hear a roar of flames. A second after it ended, the door flew open.

"Harry! Where'd you head off to, mate? You missed the party." Theo now had some clothes on (though not enough to cover the amount of scratches he apparently sustained over the course of the night).

"Well I-" before Harry could finish, Theo pulled him back into the room and up the stairs to the bedroom.

Theo released Harry at the doorway, sat down on the bed, and patted the spot next to him. "Come on, it'll help you get over the hangover."

Though Harry was extremely confused, he sat next to Theo without question. The longer he sat, the more Harry could remember from last night: drinking with Theo and some ladies from Beauxbatons; raising their glasses up in the air and giving a toast to the new school year; Theo managing to get all seven of the ladies to drink seven glasses each of vodka, and Harry refusing it; Theo promising that if they went up to his bed, they'd be able to remember it all in the morning and not have a hangover; Harry refusing and deciding to sleep on the couch; Harry being woken by an owl that was nudging him all too forcefully. Harry stood instantly and ran down the stairs.

"Where you going, mate?"

"I just remembered I got an owl last night and I put the letter…" Harry crouched in front of the couch and found the letter perfectly rolled and unharmed, "under the couch!" He grabbed it and yelled back, "Thanks Theo!" before running out the door and back to his room.

Theo shrugged. He was used to that by now. His guests never really stayed long afterwards, anyway. Maybe it had to do with his anti-hangover charmed bed. He glanced down at it and wondered if he'd get the ladies to stay longer otherwise.

Harry was practically sprinting to his room, letter in his hand, not even caring that he had confirmed how his night had gone. Yeah, he hadn't gotten to shag anyone last night, but hey, he had gotten that letter from Malfoy! Harry didn't have time to worry about how his priorities had changed before he made it to his room.

"I got it!" He entered his room, nearly causing Tom to jump. Before Tom even had the bearings to ask a question, Harry was already reading the now unfolded letter.

" _Harry Potter,_

_Yes, I can quite agree that this does, indeed, sound daft. If I am to be completely honest with you, I almost did ignore the letter. However, your request does intrigue me. I have concluded that, since you have not contained the full details, you either do not know more than you are looking for a library or cannot share the information you do know over a simple letter, either of which I can also safely assume there are others involved as well. I will meet you in the private room of the French restaurant in Hogmeade, Saison D'_ _été. Do not bother bringing any sort of money, as I will be having my family for lunch there regardless. I do hope you have a liking for French cuisine._

_Malfoy"_

Harry looked up to Tom, a mixt of confusion and interest fighting for control of his face. After a moment, the only comment he could make out was, "He invited me to lunch with his family. A former death eater invited me to lunch with his family."

Tom merely scoffed. "Did you think he would make time specifically for a meeting with you?"

Still baffled, Harry sat on his bed. "He invited me to…" something registered in his brain, and he looked at his watch, "to lunch! I've got to get ready for lunch!" Harry got up and ran to his mirror in the bathroom, overlooking his rather plain, wrinkled outfit. "Tom, what does one wear to French restaurants? Are they fancy?"

Tom could have laughed, but did not. Laughing was not in his nature. "Actually, yes. The French take pride in making the English look like uncultured hooligans whenever they get the chance. I suggest dressing in only the best you own."

Harry groaned a bit. "I was afraid you'd say that," he said under his breath, running to his closet. He flipped through all his clothes, as if looking through them all would the ones he needed appear. Alas, he had nothing but his teaching robes and old clothes. He groaned again and put his forehead to the wood of the closet door.

"While I normally do not care for your…" Tom let his utter disgust with having to aid Harry with finding the proper clothing shine, " _wardrobe_ , this meeting will be very important." Tom took a breath. "I suggest formal slacks, with absolutely _no_ _wrinkles_. The slimmer the better. Your shirt would be better in a crème, possibly with a navy jacket."

Harry pulled his face off the door and stared at Tom in confusion.

Tom, in a burst of anger, shouted, "Do I look like I can do this magic for you?! Transfigure your clothes!"

With a jolt, Harry brushed off the thoughts of Tom knowing anything about French fashion and grabbed his wand. He did as he was told, transfiguring his pants into slim, black slacks, perfectly pressed, his shirt into a cream-colored button down and navy jacket. After looking over his outfit himself, he looked back to Tom. "What do you think?"

Tom sighed and put a hand on half his face. "Everyone knows black and navy cannot go together. Change your pants to a dark brown."

Though Harry didn't understand it, he changed the color of his pants and looked back to Tom. "Good now?"

He nodded back with an un-intrigued expression.

Harry quickly went back to the mirror once more and tried focusing on taming his wild hair. Before he could help himself, a question slipped out of his lips. "Tom, how do you know about French fashion?"

Though at first it seemed as if Tom would yell at Harry again, his face calmed and he replied, "I once had to impress Lucius, too." _Loyalty does not win itself._

He gave a quick nod and went back to taming his wild hair, which would simply not cooperate. He finally just decided to brush it to the side and hoped it would at least look like he styled it to look crazy. With a sigh, he looked back to his watch. "How early is too early?"

"Well, what time is it?" Tom asked.

"It's almost half past eleven."

Tom shook his head. "They probably haven't even showed up, yet. Don't forget they have to get the private room, first. Not just anyone can ask for the private room."

Harry sighed again. "How do I know when they are there, then?"

The other man gave half a shrug. "Wait outside the restaurant?" He was really running out of patience for himself as he continued to aid Harry. At one point in his life, this was the boy he wanted to murder more than anyone. Now he was giving him advice on when the proper arrival time for a lunch meeting. If he could possibly appall himself, he was doing so.

Harry just nodded at himself in the mirror, and tried to prepare himself for a meeting with Lucius Malfoy. He said it was a family lunch, so did that mean Draco would be there? And Narcissa? He hadn't been on a particularly close level with any of them since they disappeared after the war. They had all flew under the radar. Harry knew Draco's son, Scorpius was in one of his classes. Would Scorpius be there? The more Harry thought about it, the more he thought, _How awkward would it be to have a professor invited to a family lunch?_ Surely the Malfoys would enjoy it if Harry praised Scorpius. As far as Harry could tell, Scorpius wasn't a terrible student. Not at all. He got nearly everything the first few times he attempted it. He supposed he wouldn't just start praising him right away. Maybe if he was asked about how the boy was doing…?

The more Harry thought about it, the more he realized he had no idea what he was doing. He rubbed his temples in an attempt to calm himself.

Though Tom wanted nothing more than to watch Harry worry his _heroic little_ head off, he would not have his only chance to become a living human be crushed. "Harry, you must go," he said gently. "You will figure it out once you are there."

Harry glanced at the moving portrait a moment before nodding. He didn't know if Tom was really helping him or just pushing him to get to the meeting faster, but he was grateful either way. Maybe Tom wasn't so bad all the time? Yeah, he'd have to get used to that idea.

"Oh, and Harry..."

Harry turned to look back to Tom.

Tom's face was smoothed, youthful, and sincere. "The library is in my personal house."

Trying not to react, Harry pulled out his wand and disapperated.

Upon arriving in an alley in Hogsmeade, Harry found that nearly every nook and cranny of street was crowded. After being sucked into the vortex of people, he craned his head above their heads, trying to find some place with a French name as the crowd pulled him along. He saw many banners, brightly colored with big letters on them that Harry couldn't quite read through the huge amount of people. Eventually, he saw a large sign that had Es with accents over them and decided that must be the restaurant. He forcibly pulled himself through the crowd and to toward the doors of the French restaurant. It was a difficult task, but he managed to break free at the entrance.

He took a moment to compose himself, fixing his slightly disheveled jacket and smoothing his pants a bit. He didn't dare touch his hair; he was sure there was nothing he could do about it now. Once he was about done, he took a glance around, finding gold and pastels everywhere, as if the restaurant were an ode to kings long ago that Harry never bothered to keep track of. The ceiling was one big, continuous mirror, it seemed, and the floor was white marble mixed with a shimmering stone Harry couldn't place, but was sure he'd seen before. The walls at the front were striped pale blue and medium blue, both with just a hint of grey to them. The molding on the walls was all gold, making the room seem all too bright for Harry's tastes he had been used to the gothic style of Hogwarts and of the Grimmauld Place. After a moment, he noticed there were people on light pink chairs, also trimmed in gold, waiting for their tables, he assumed. He figured he should probably find one, as well, to wait for the Malfoys. Of course, the bench before him was full, but maybe the one behind him had space?

As he turned to face the other wall, he found the whole bench was, in fact, taken. Three pale faces had been watching him as he had escaped from the crowd.

"Hello, Potter," a familiar voice said, "Glad that you have acquainted yourself with the scenery here."

Harry nearly gaped upon seeing Draco and his family had already beaten him here. He was sure he had been early for lunch. Or, at least, he had been before getting stuck in that crowd.

"Er, sorry to keep you all waiting." Harry was unsure of what to do as far as body language went. He didn't need to talk to Draco, but he didn't want to be rude. Unless Draco was rude first.

Draco stood and his wife and son followed suit,. He gestured to the waiter, who bowed and grabbed a few menus before leading them along a winding path full of turns to a private room Harry assumed was in the back of the restaurant. The Malfoys seemed to seat themselves in unison, joining Draco's mother, who was already seated at the table, with perfect grace, while Harry felt himself stumble a bit over the chair as he went to sit in it. He tried with all his might to stop the red from rushing to his cheeks. It helped when he noticed there were only five people at the table, and all the chairs were taken.

"Where is Lucius?" Harry asked, instantly.

Though Draco seemed taken aback, he did not let the expression last. "My father is no longer with us." The whole family seemed to look down at the empty table before them. "He passed a couple months ago."

Harry suddenly was very embarrassed. "Oh. I'm terribly sorry. I didn't realize…" He looked to Narcissa, her eyes showing the slightest sign of tears. Oh, Harry wished he was more subtle sometimes. The red hot flush came to his cheeks as the shame began to grow. He hadn't even liked Lucius, but now, surrounded by his family, he felt like he had gone and vandalized his grave.

Draco held up a hand a moment, strong and quick, before reassuring his guest. "You didn't know, and I didn't exactly take the time to explain it in the letter, either." He let his hand fall. "It's quite alright, Harry," Draco stated gently. "I'm sure whatever task you needed my father for can be done just as easily by myself."

As much as Harry wanted to agree, he couldn't be sure. And even if Draco _could_ do the task, would he? Should Harry even be there, in front of the whole Malfoy family, asking for them to help him get a book from Voldemort's personal house for _Merlin knows what_. As back in the old days, Harry felt he was probably in over his head. It was a perfectly wonderful feeling.

Harry took a breath and was about to speak as the waiter entered the room.

"Monsieur, your usual?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, thank you."

The waiter looked over Harry with distain. "And for ze guest?"

Harry hadn't even picked up a menu. He had, for the most part, forgot that food was a part of this meeting. As he picked up the menu, he realized it was all written in French. Tom had been right to say that the French tried to make the British look foolish…

"Harry, are you in the mood for sweet or would you prefer something with meat?" Draco was looking over the menu, appearing to be reading it just fine.

"Meat," Harry said, nearly a squeak.

Draco pointed at the menu, saying something quietly to the waiter in French, then pointed to his wife, Astoria. The waiter nodded and left with a bow.

Harry let the relief wash over him. He was glad, for once, that Malfoys came from money.

After a moment, Harry realized that Draco was waiting for him to reply.

"Actually, I'm not so sure that you will be able to help me. You might not even want to."

The waiter came back into the room, a tray full of wine bottles and glasses. He laid carefully placed glasses before everyone at the table, even Scorpius, and began to fill them with the various wines. Harry's own glass was filled with a rather dark, dull colored red wine, while Draco and Narcissa seemed to have white wines. Astoria and Scorpius both received something vaguely off white with tiny bubbles. Judging from the way Scorpius drank it quickly and with a smile it appeared to be sparkling grape juice.

"What sort of task is this?" Draco eyed Harry cautiously. "Is it dangerous?"

"Dangerous?" Harry pondered aloud, "Probably." He nodded to himself while staring at his glass. He wasn't sure he'd ever had fancy wine before. He'd have to make sure to thank Draco later for this lunch. "That's not even the worst part."

"Then if you would please explain the whole…situation?" Draco sipped his wine.

Harry nearly laughed. It was quite comical that he was actually about to say these words, but also frightening. Twenty something years ago, he'd never have even imagined he could say anything of this nature, especially as a task for the Dark Lord himself. "I need you to help me get into Voldemort's personal house."

While Harry imagined spitting out of drinks, gasps, outrage, or other very sudden reactions, they did not come. Instead, Draco eyed him with suspicion and gracefully set down his drink. The rest of the family appeared to pretend the words had not been said, and that Harry was not even there.

"I hope I can safely assume that you mean to burn all of the contents inside with friendfyre and broadcasting it on _The Daily Prophet_ , otherwise you would be drawing my family into a _very_ dangerous place we have already been forced to crawl out of." His grey eyes were glaring hard at Harry, giving him a feeling reminiscent of having Lucius's murderous gaze upon him.

Harry stayed quiet a moment. He needed smooth Slytherin words to get him out of this mess. He hoped his Gryffindor-esque ways wouldn't get the best of him. "No, actually. But there have been words going around…" Harry lowered his voice a bit, "that his place is hidden, and still lays untouched. He was a very powerful wizard, and though I don't want to follow in his footsteps, what if someone does? I want to know what went wrong in the boy who grew up to be Voldemort, as well as how he managed to gain his power." Harry, who hadn't realized he had leaned forward in his chair so much, now leaned back. "I hope you can understand why I don't want that in _The Daily Prophet_."

Draco's suspicious glare began to weaken back into the peaceful expression that had been upon his features before. Harry held his breath as Draco seemed to judge the worthiness of his words.

"Very well," Draco said softly.

Harry, startled at his successful manipulation, sipped his wine with a shaky hand. If there was an afterlife, he was certainly going to be explaining this one.

At that moment, the waiter entered the room with several others, all carrying plates of delicious looking food. "Dîner, Monsieur." They placed before Harry that appeared to have slices of beef on it, displayed very elegantly. With a "Bon appétit!" they all left.

Draco picked up his glass and held it up. "A toast to the new generation: may it be free from knowing the pains of war."

Harry held up his glass as well, a fake smile plastered on his face.


	14. The Night After

Harry couldn't help but hate himself a little. What had he done? They were going to break into Tom's no, _Voldemort's_ house and Harry was going to steal a book for Tom to do _Merlin knows what_. He couldn't be more furious with himself if he was his own mother. What was he doing? How could he do this?

Of course, it wasn't all bad, right? Those things he had said at lunch about stopping future Voldemorts had been a rouse at first, but he found it sounded more and more right. That _is_ what he should be doing. He would do that. Tom wouldn't know.

_So what if Tom knew? He can't do anything. He's a freaking portrait!_ Harry sighed and held his head in his hands.

"Potter, really, you must calm down." Draco gave him a clear expression of his state of discomfort. "I'm fairly certain the whole place can smell fear. Especially yours."

They both stood in an empty field that seemed to be surrounded by a nothingness that stretched on indefinitely-just short, brown grasses under a rather dull sky. Draco had remembered how to apparate there, but they were currently working on figuring out how the wards worked. The sun had set about half an hour ago, and their search was still fruitless. Both men were beginning to remember their past hatred for each other.

"Well, I'll just calm down, then," Harry said, a sort of biting tone to his voice.

Draco suddenly had his hands on his hips. "Stop standing there doing nothing. Actually try and help me then _just maybe_ we'll be able to find the wards."

Harry could feel his temper rising. "I _have_ been helping you, Malfoy. If you could actually remember what your father did to get in, _maybe_ we wouldn't be walking around with our wands in the air trying to detect the faint old magic." Try as he might to stay civil, Draco was just pushing his buttons.

With a sneer, Draco cut back, "This was your idea, Potter. If you don't appreciate the help I've given you, then maybe you should have asked someone else."

"I was asking someone else," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"Unfortunately for you, my father is dead. So you can have my help or you can _sod off_." Draco's face was becoming red around his ears.

Harry finally let his anger bubble, not even trying to push it down. "As much as I'd like to _sod off_ , Malfoy, this is an important task. You should be grateful I'm even putting up with you to accomplish it."

Draco scoffed. "You and your stupid _Gryffindor_ tendencies. You aren't even an auror anymore. You don't need to be everyone's hero."

" _I thought you would say no!_ " Harry suddenly yelled. His anger flamed like a raging fire, unable to be contained. "I made it all up!" He was screaming louder than he ever had before. He _despised_ Draco. How _dare_ he bring up his lost job. He felt his pride being ripped from his person, and all the shame and guilt he had buried for months and months was unleashed. "I need to get into Tom's house to get a book so I can change the portrait I have of him into something else and he told me there was a book in his house that could do _just that!_ I used you! I'm still using you!"

Once Harry finished screaming, the air was dead silent except for his heavy breathing. Draco was unmoving, mouth ungracefully agape, eyes wide. Neither of them really registered what was said until the silence had grown long and worn. Even then, they didn't know what to say.

"I-" Harry tried, but couldn't think of anything more to say.

Draco glanced around them, as if to assure they were really alone, and then got closer to Harry to whisper, "Do you really have a portrait of him?"

Instant guilt slammed Harry. "I do, but I didn't make it. It happened on accident. I hired this wizard portrait painter and he was supposed to paint my godfather, but he painted Tom Riddle instead."

"Tom Riddle." Draco tested the words on his lips, as if saying them would somehow make them a dream. "Magical portrait of Tom Riddle."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes. Right before he became Voldemort, I think. He's annoying as all hell, and he thinks the same of me. I was going to find a book on portraits because he's hanging in my room at Hogwarts and I'd rather him not be."

Incredulous, Draco began to laugh. "Of course you'd rather him not be. You know just about anyone else would have burned the damned thing? But, _not Potter_."

"I didn't ask for him to be painted! And he didn't either." Harry didn't know why he was suddenly defending Tom, but he supposed it wasn't the most ridiculous thing he had done in his life. Draco was right: keeping the portrait and not burning it was probably the most ridiculous thing Harry had ever done. "I suppose it wouldn't suffice to say I was lonely this summer?"

Draco shook his head. "No. I'd rather have the company of a hungry dragon than him in any form."

"Yeah…" Harry ran a hand through his crazy, dark hair. "Am I a terrible person?"

Draco nodded. "For listening to him? Yes." He softened his voice. "Of course, I don't blame you. I did once, too." He offered a half smiled that quickly faded away. "It's a terrible sort of life, following him. I don't recommend it. Especially since you have a family."

Harry nodded once. He knew he had a family. What was it about him that caused him to forget that fact when he did things? His family used to be on his mind all the time when he was performing dangerous missions as an auror... "But he's just a portrait. What can he do?"

"I think you underestimate the power of words, Harry. Words are how he got to power, and words are always how men like him will get to power. He can manipulate people with just his words. Get them to do his dirty work. That's what this is. You are doing his dirty work. He will use you as fuel and he will gain power and he won't stop until he's where he wants to be. That's how Slytherins work."

"What? No…" Harry started to shake his head, but slowed to a stop as he thought further on the topic. "I'm not…he just wants to sleep better without me waking him up…" he tried to convince himself more than he tried to convince Draco. He knew what Tom was up to. Why was he still trying to help him? Of course, there was the pity thing, but was that really all it took to get Harry to help a (former) Dark Lord get what he wants?

"If that was true, you wouldn't need a specific book from his private house. He wouldn't have you asking me for help to get in." Draco looked around them once more, stopping his gaze on a specific spot. "He's got you on a leash."

Draco walked over to the spot and turned his gaze upwards, as if there was something on an invisible wall before him. Harry watched him, confused, but quiet. With a fearful glint to his eyes, he carefully placed his wand up to his chin and whispered, " _ **Morsmordre**_."

Harry watched in horror as Draco's eyes rolled back, showing nothing but the whites, and a green snake made of smoke forced its way out of his mouth. The snake escaped slowly, growing longer and longer until it fell onto the ground and disappeared. In a moment, a wall materialized, disillusionment spell fading away. Draco fell to the ground coughing and gasping for air as the spell finally released him. Harry quickly went over to him, but found himself staring instead at the huge gate that appeared before them, made of wrought iron. The detailing was so incredible-snakes twisting and winding down each rod-Harry thought for a moment they were real. He watched as everything inside the gate became visible under the light of the moon; tall walls of grey stone with few, small stained-glass windows, deep green bushes and perfectly manicured grass, a few statues of wizards in their robes, and grand tree that looked like a giant bush with small red berries and pine-like leaves. He was amazed at how perfect the yard was. Every blade of grass was in place.

The gate swung open, and a powerful gust of wind thrust them both inside. The gate quickly slammed itself shut behind them and disappeared, morphing into more of the brick wall that surrounded it. Harry ran to the wall in utter panic, feeling for where the gate had been, but finding it was really gone.

Draco, who had finally caught his breath, stood shakily. He remembered the way his father looked after completing that spell-sallow-faced, covered in a cold sweat, eyes dim. He was safe to assume he appeared the same way. It was no wonder that his father had told him to cover his eyes all those years ago. He would never do that again. He swore it to himself.

Turning his attention to Draco, Harry asked hurriedly, "How do we get out?"

"We disapperate," he replied weakly.

Harry could see what the spell had done to him. Honestly, he would have never thought of that. He wasn't sure how Draco suddenly remembered, or why he decided to perform it, especially after Harry told him the truth. "Why'd you do that?"

Not able to conjure a biting tone, Draco answered honestly, "I want you to do what you said you would do when you were lying to me."

Harry nodded, but didn't look away from Draco. He could see the face of his childhood enemy distort into one that was the same, but appeared different in some odd way. Maybe it was the moonlight, or how pale his face had become, but Harry could see the age lines in his face, and the dullness in his grey eyes; the narrowness of his face now seemed too much, and his features were very pointy. He stared, as if seeing Draco for the first time. It just now occurred to him how difficult his life must have been back then. Probably as difficult as his own, if not more so. Harry had his friends, and parental figures, people who cared about him and backed him no matter the occasion. Had Draco had any of that? Suddenly, he was curious. He was curious as to what everyone else's story was while he was living his own.

"Draco…" Harry began. He'd never really said his name with such sincerity before. It had usually been "Malfoy," but he wanted to use his first name, just like he used Tom's first name. They were people. They deserved that much. How had it taken so long for Harry to see Draco and Tom as people?

"Draco, are you alright? Do you need some healing spells?"

Though Draco was unsure of the sudden concern Harry had over him, he nodded. "My skull feels violated." He trusted Harry enough to heal him. He had once been Head Auror, after all. Surely he knew his way around medical spells.

Harry pulled out his wand and began to do a scanning spell to locate any problems. Instantly, Draco's head lit up blue. Harry cast another spell, surrounding his head in an almost-clear cloud. His breathing began to calm and he closed his eyes as Harry's spell sent a cool tingling feeling in his ears and between them. Neither of them bothered to wonder what was wrong with Draco's head, really, but found comfort in the fact that it was healing.

When the cloud disappeared, Draco opened his eyes and glanced around. He hadn't really paid any attention before, but now that his vision was actually straight, he remembered the yard he stood in. If he was not mistaken, he had watched someone die in the very spot where Harry stood. He couldn't remember their name now, but he had watched the Dark Lord turn them to ashes without even using his wand.

"What now?" Harry asked quietly.

"Now," Draco turned towards the house, a new spring in his step, "we go learn about Tom Riddle."

* * *

James, Albus, and Lily all huddled under the invisibility cloak as they watched their friends set up a prank outside their father's door. It had a levitated trip wire that, once activated, would drop a powder that smelt like dead fish to everyone but the person wearing it. They had told them many times to cut him a break, and they really had, but it didn't stop them from attempting to prank him. The Potter children watched and wondered to themselves if they should side with their friends or with their father. They were sure their father would be alright with even one prank getting to him, and they knew their friends would stop if they honestly told them to. Was there harm in pranks? Was there harm in no pranks? They couldn't decide what the better option was.

Joel Richards, practically the most popular seventh year Gryffindor, smiled and nodded as the fifth and sixths years did all the setting up. Joel swore up and down that this would be his last prank ever, as his current love interest, Madison Wood, had called him "immature" when she had last rejected him. He, of course, could not let the only girl who had ever rejected him get away so easily. He would win her heart; he would make sure of it.

"Mark," Joel whispered to one of the sixth years, "make sure to set the powder nice and high up so he doesn't catch on."

Though a couple of the sixth years looked at him, only one replied back. "My name is Max."

"Right. Max."

The younger Gryffindors simply shrugged it off. They considered themselves lucky to even be allowed to do this for Joel. Normally, he did all his pranks with his posse: Thyme, Alex, and Perseus-those four roomed together and were practically inseparable.

The Potter children knew it was because Perseus, Joel's absolute best friend in the entire world, was now dating Thyme. It was the rooming together that made the whole thing weird. It was one thing for Joel to see two of his guy friends kiss in the hallways, but another entirely to see them kiss right next to his bed at night. And through the night. The Marauder's Map showed them, always in the same bed. Even right then. Joel was the only one who seemed to mind it, as Alex was fast asleep.

If the Potter children weren't in Gryffindor, they could probably sell secrets and make a living.

Albus sighed quietly. The other two, in tune with his thoughts, nodded and brought out their wands. Just as Max was carefully lifting the silver bucket of powder up and up, high above the door frame, James hit him with a weak " _ **Confundo**_ " and Lily made sure the bucket tipped over right on top of Joel's head.

Joel let out a muffled yelp, but did nothing as the bucket emptied itself all over him. They all knew Professor Hampsafe, the Divination professor, was on duty tonight, and she always had her detention students study and recite old prophecies with her (she thought it helped with her divination powers). All the students hid their gasps and choking sounds as the smell of rotten fish filled the air.

For a moment, Max just stared at the bucket confused, as if trying to place what it was, until it seemed to dawn on him what he had done.

"Joel, I'm _so sorry_ ," he whispered in a rush.

Though Joel looked as if he wanted to punch someone, he secretly found himself pleased. If he went back to his room smelling like this, maybe Thyme and Perseus would leave, or at least suffer for a night. Maybe he would be able to sleep without thinking about his two best mates sharing a bed only a foot or two away from his own.

"You know what," Joel whispered through his teeth, before relaxing a bit. "Forget it. I don't need a last prank. Obviously Professor Potter is unprankable." Joel dusted off as much of the powder as possible and headed for Gryffindor Tower. The other students, who had almost finished setting up, glanced around at each other, searching for an answer. All at once, they seemed to drop what they were doing and took to whispering amongst themselves in a group.

"Professor Potter, unprankable?"

"Do you think it was him who did that?"

"Who else could it be?"

"But how does he know?"

"He must be prepared for any prank."

The students picked up the remains of their prank and scurried off to their house to tell the others about the unprankable professor.

The Potter children stood for a while, simply amused at what they had begun. It wasn't until the stench of rotten fish began to burn their nostrils did they remember the powder scattered along the floor. Albus used a quick " _ **Wingardium Leviosa**_ " to lift the powder out the window at the end of the hallway. Now there was no trace the prank had ever attempted to happen. Their father would never know. And they liked to keep it that way.

As they began to walk back to the Common Room, feet completely in step with each other and minds drifting to other thoughts, a high-pitched voice suddenly cut through the silence of the night.

"Tell me, Sandel, how often do you catch children sneaking about at night?"

Sandel let out a tiny growl, as he usually did upon catching a student out past curfew. "All the time. Them little buggers tryin' tuh lay pranks for the mornin' but I won't 'ave it."

The woman and Sandel stepped into the hallway the children had now stopped in the middle of.

"But how often? The Ministry needs to know. Every night?"

"Er, not every night."

As the woman came closer into view, the children could see the toad-like squatness and full-on pink outfit only an old lady would wear. She clicked her tongue against her teeth. "That's highly unfortunate." She scribbled some notes onto a tiny notepad she was holding. "Have you caught any tonight?"

Sandel's scruffy chin scrunched up and his eyes narrowed under very bushy brows. "Not yet."

The woman seemed to brighten up at the idea. "Then you better get finding. I'm sure there are children around past their curfew." She glanced around, looking right through the children who were staring at her, their hearts racing.

The Potter children knew who she was. It was hard to find a witch or wizard nowadays who didn't. She was the controversial piece left behind from the terrible years. When the Ministry tried to cleanse themselves of her, they simply threw her into Azkaban for a few years. But when she got out, they let her right back in. Though there was much protest, she had not shown her evil side in a while. It was possible that she reformed her ways. But mostly, everyone just watched and waited for it to come. They honestly hoped her very old age would get her before the evil did.

She smiled and waddled onward, Sandel following along slowly.

The Potter children let out a breath they hadn't known they were holding. How odd it was that Umbridge was wiggling her way back to Hogwarts. How absolutely _unnerving_ it was…

" _Psssssst_ "

All three children heard it and began to search the area around them.

"Who's there?" Lily whispered.

" _Psssssst._ _Lily?_ "

The whispered voice was familiar. Lily walked right out from the cloak, fiery red hair instantly visible, even in the dark surroundings. "Gemini?"

Stepping out from a dark corner, Gemini's skin looked black. It gently faded away to reveal pale skin, mousy brown hair, and bright yellow eyes. "Lily, who was that?"

James and Albus pulled the cloak off themselves and moved to stand behind her. Their faces were grim.

Lily's whole body seemed tense, as if posed and ready for a fight. The words slipped off her tongue in absolute revulsion.

"Dolores Umbridge."

* * *

As the moon began to fade in one sky, having worked a long hard night, it found that the sun was running late to show for his shift, as usual. The clouds always seemed to hold up traffic, making the moon late for his shift in the next sky.

What the moon wouldn't give to just rest for a moment. But every night was busy, busy; one right after the other, no time to slow. Nevertheless, it shone, lending its beams to the people below until the sun came with its wonderful light.

The moon was high over London, now, still trying to stall until the sun got there. It could see on and on, far past any human eyes could ever hope to see.

Past the city limits and into the empty fields, it could feel something was happening. Hiding where it barely couldn't see, under some sort of spell, in plain sight. The moon tried and tried to find out, squinting hard. It was then that suddenly, the spell was gone.

A man in dark robes pulled his hood up over his head and placed his mask over his face. He smirked beneath its shiny silver protection. He turned around to face the others, all wearing the same mask and robe. It was truly an army. _His_ army. Oh no, not his own. No, this was the Dark Lord's army.

"We 'ave been underground for too long, my friends. Iz eet not time we 'ave ze sun on our faces?" There were many cheers from the crowd.

Though they had all been in and out of Azkaban, this would be their new beginning. No longer would they be sent to that jail. No, they would form their own world order. They would become the great people their mothers and fathers once were. They would catch the world off guard and grab it by the throat, not letting go until they all died. They would rise up from the ashes of the world and form a new, better one.

All under the guidance of Tom Riddle himself. The man had made sure of that.

He held up his wand, flames bursting from the tip, enticing more cheers and noise from the army watching him. "Tonight!" he yelled out to them, "They burn!"

The army of Death Eaters all ignited the tips of their wands in a frenzy of noise, letting their excitement loose. This was their night; the night the muggle world would burn to the ground to make way for a brighter wizarding one.

The man smiled bigger now, soaking up the energy of the crowd, basking in it, breathing it. He loved the way it tasted on his tongue and between his thin lips; like blood and revenge. He licked his lips and gathered his breath to scream something at the top of his lungs.

"To London!"


	15. Whirlwind

Harry awoke, pulling his face off a stack of books to stretch his back that had been hunched over as he slept. He gazed out the window and saw that the navy sky had begun to recede into light blue, though there were no traces of pink and orange quite yet. Harry was thankful that Monday morning hadn't snuck up on him.

He glanced around the ornate library, taking the whole place in for probably the twentieth time since first laying eyes on it. Really, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen: walls colored like fresh blood, completely smoothed and perfect; black crown molding along all the edges of each wall with small snakes carved into it, all intertwined into one another like a Celtic knot; a silver ceiling that seemed to move as if it was real and liquid; mahogany bookcases lined with black velvet, complete with ivory bookends on every row that was not full; the East wall covered in a black damask pattern that did not have bookcases on it, but a grand fireplace done entirely in silver and black marble with a mahogany table and a few silver sitting chairs nearby; an elegant, silver and black glass chandelier in the middle of the room that seemed to sprout from the ceiling like a vine, with leafy detailing; the softest black carpet Harry had ever felt. It was obviously the only room in the house Tom had ever bothered to decorate, since the other rooms had bare black walls, plain wooden flooring, and not much else.

In one of the other chairs was Draco, reading through his notes, his platinum blonde hair a bit disheveled, and quite a few books stacked next to him on the table. He gave Harry but a glance before letting his eyes return to his notes once more.

"Good morning, Sleeping Ugly."

Harry scoffed. "I'm not ugly. I was the Wizarding world's teenage heartthrob, remember?"

"Keep telling yourself that," Draco replied flatly. He turned the page on his notebook and sighed as he reached the end.

"So, what've we got on Tom so far?" Harry asked, leaning back in his chair.

Draco rolled his eyes. Would Harry ever grow up? "Well _I_ managed to make some observations, but other than that, there is not a single thing in this library that has given us any insight into Tom Riddle."

The other man sighed. "I thought for sure they'd be in here. He obviously liked this room, since it's so decorated."

"Then maybe that's why it's _not_ in here." Draco closed his notebook. "If he didn't like his past, then he probably kept all the information about it in a different place, where he didn't spend most of his time."

Harry nodded. "It's probably in his bedroom."

Draco knit his perfectly groomed eyebrows together. "I checked there. I checked every room. There's hardly any furniture, let alone important things about his past." His thoughts immediately fell to the terrible age lines he would get if he continued that facial expression, and thus dropped it for a rather bored look.

Harry stood up and yawned. "Well," he began as he finished up his yawn, "I can ask Tom about it. It'll be easier for us to get in now that I changed the wards." He yawned once more. "Goodness. I'd better get back to Hogwarts and shower so I can wake up before I have to teach my classes."

"Classes?" Draco's bored gaze now appeared curious.

Before Harry explained out of habit, he stopped himself. "Wait, the _all-knowing_ Draco Malfoy doesn't know _all about_ how I got a new job?" He chuckled.

Draco let his brows furrow once more. He was not amused.

"I work at Hogwarts now," Harry said quietly. A part of him still longed for his old job. He had yet to regain the complete feeling of purpose inside him. "I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh," Draco said, a bit surprised, but trying not to show it. "Well, then you had better get to Hogwarts. Classes will start soon, and you've still got to get ready and prepare for them."

"Yep," Harry replied, glancing around to make sure he still had all his things. "I'll be back later, then. Don't bother staying if you don't want to. I'm sure you have work to do, too."

Draco nodded distractedly in reply.

Harry didn't expect much of a goodbye, so he apparated, arriving in his office at Hogwarts.

His office was still in the process of being set up, with boxes of various tools and potions still waiting to be unloaded, and papers simply stacked upon his strong, oak desk in a messy fashion. Harry felt like it never would live up to Tom's library. In fact, it would probably stay in the unpacking phase, and he'd just dig out anything he'd need throughout the year as he needed it. He had thought he would have the time to put it all away later with a quick spell, but seeing it now, he realized even a spell would take longer than he could spare. With a wishful sigh, Harry left his office and headed to his room in a hurry.

When Harry opened the door to his room, he could hear the quiet breathing of Tom as he slept. He closed the door slowly behind him, making sure to not make too much noise. He still felt bad for waking him in the middle of the night so much before. At least Tom had gotten sleep the whole weekend.

Harry quickly showered and dressed, going to great pains to find an outfit he could wear that was both comfortable, professional, and wouldn't turn out odd when he changed into his animagus at training later. He finally settled on loose fitting black pants and a grey button-up. He checked himself in the mirror and found that his hair was reasonably manageable, as half of it was still flat from sleeping on those books in the library. For once, Harry found himself smiling at his reflection. Maybe today would be a good day for him.

As he left the bathroom, he noticed Tom was now awake, though still blinking some of the sleep away.

"Good morning, Tom," He said lightly.

Tom, pleased to see that Harry had not been murdered by his wards, gave him a small smile. "Morning, Harry. I see you are still alive. Does that mean you were successful in your task?"

"Well, not exactly." Harry sat on the edge of his bed, facing Tom. "I managed to talk Draco into telling me where your house is and get us in. Lucius died a few months back, by the way. Not sure if I told you that already or not. Anyway, we did get in, fixed the wards so we can get back in without having to be possessed and vomit a ghost snake. Found your library. Lovely decorating, by the way. However, we haven't found the book you asked for, yet. We checked the whole house. You don't happen to remember where you left it, do you?" Harry met his gaze, not in the least bit phased as they seemed to stare at each other. "Is it possible it's somewhere hidden? I mean, we couldn't see or feel the house until Draco did the spell thing. Is there some other room that's hidden that we can't see or feel until we do a spell?"

Tom was the first to break eye contact, letting his eyes fall to the floor as he thought several things over in his head. After a few seconds, he made a decision. "It's possible that I may have left it in my potions lab."

"Okay," Harry began. "We didn't see a potions lab. How do we find it?"

Tom scanned over Harry. There was no way a Gryffindor would be up to something and be able to hide it so seamlessly. He was just a harmless flea, doing his bidding. "A drop of blood in the fireplace."

Harry nodded. "Alright. I will let Draco know when I get there after classes."

Harry stood and began to reach for his wand when Tom spoke up again.

"How did you manage to convince Draco to do this for you? I'm sure he remembered the horrors of getting into my house." Tom raised an eyebrow, but ultimately kept his face calm and charming.

With a shrug, Harry replied, "Well, at first I lied to him about what I planned to do with your house, but then I told him the truth."

"I see. What did you tell him you planned to do with my house?" Tom was truly curious, but also slightly suspicious.

Harry paused a moment before smirking. "I told him I was going to burn your house to the ground with fiendfyre."

Before Tom could comment, Harry was out the door and heading for his first class.

* * *

Gemini ran as fast as feet could take him. His hair was turning blonde at the ends and his eyes were a mix of so many colors, like a rainbow crashed into them and shattered. With a slip of paper in his hand, the signature of Professor Davies neatly along the bottom, Gemini made a soft whooshing sound with his mouth as he ran, as if he was becoming a part of the wind itself. His short legs carried him as fast as they could, and within minutes he was in front of Professor Potter, gasping for breath and handing him the note.

Harry smiled down at Gemini, pleasantly surprised that the note he had asked for had actually made it to him.

"Excellent, Gemini. I'll send a patronus to the Headmistress right away." He nodded once and pulled out his wand. A ghostly stag appeared, no incantation needed, and rushed off to Headmistress Patil. "Hopefully we get her reply before training tonight."

Gemini smiled, but his eyes were still a crazy swirl of colors. He tried talking as his breath came back to him. "Professor…Potter. There's…something else."

Harry chuckled. "Calm down a moment, Gemini. Catch your breath."

After a moment of just breathing, Gemini tried again. "There's something else, Professor. Something _private_ I need to tell you."

Harry's face dropped from amusement to concern. He gave a quick glance around the room, noting the few amount of students and the time until class began. "Let's step into the back a moment."

He turned around and unlocked a door in the corner that Gemini was sure had not been there a moment ago. They stepped through to an empty room with nothing but a table and two wooden chairs. Harry sat in one and gestured for Gemini to sit in the other.

The tips of Gemni's hair dulled back into his normal brown as he sat and prepared what he would say. It was important that he convey it perfectly so that Harry would understand the importance and yet not overreact. "I hope not to get in trouble for this, but I was out past curfew last night and I heard something I was not planning to hear. An exchange between two people, one of them being Sandel. The other person was clearly from the Ministry and seemed to be checking on what was going on with the school. They were discussing how often students were caught out after curfew, ironically, but it seemed as if they had talked about more before and continued talking about things after they walked away from where I was."

Harry furrowed his brow, taking in the information and processing it. "I see."

"I happened upon your children, afterwards, and they said they knew who the Ministry official was. Someone named Dolores Umbridge."

At the name, Harry visibly tensed. He nodded stiffly, lost in thoughts. After a moment of silence between them, he spoke quietly. "If you hear anything else about Dolores Umbridge, come and tell me immediately. I'm not suggesting you stay out past curfew, but it you do happen upon another one of these conversations, make sure you do not get caught at all costs and if you have the ability, record it."

Gemini's colored eyes faded to a dull grey as he nodded, expression becoming serious to match Harry's slightly narrowed, vibrant green eyes and thinned lips. It was so unlike the other times he had talked to him. Usually, he was more approachable than the other professors, as if he was closer to their minds. If this news had made him so concerned and alert, that could only mean one thing.

He safely concluded that this Dolores Umbridge was the same one from the stories he had read this summer after learning he was a wizard. He hadn't looked much into what happened to her after the war, but assumed that whatever it had been was not nearly enough. He hoped she wouldn't find her way back into control at Hogwarts. He also wondered if the Ministry of Magic was corrupted once again.

"Thank you for the information, Gemini. I'll do my best to make sure the right people hear it." Harry stood. "Almost time for class," he said distractedly.

They made their way back through the door into the now almost full classroom of Ravenclaw first years. Gemini made his way back to his seat, gathering odd looks from the students around him. He noticed a few whispering beside him, not so subtly pointing his direction. Though he tried with all his heart to stop feeling, he knew his eyes were changing from grey to blue as they continued talking.

"Ms. Underhill, Ms. Radford, I _do_ hope it's this week's lesson you are whispering about," Harry said sternly, as if he were no longer the one Gemini had come to know. It was honestly the first time Mr. Potter had ever had to say such a thing to any of his Ravenclaw students, but the year was just starting. They class held their breath as he stopped the piece of chalk that was beginning to write something on the board behind him. "Tell me, either of you, what is a thestral?"

Though both girls had done their reading, and far beyond it, neither of them had recalled anything on thestrals. They dared not speak for fear of humiliation of not answering a question correctly. Would their house ever let them live it down?

"Well, good to see you both are paying attention, now. Thestrals are not in the reading, of course, or in any of the curriculum, really," the piece of chalk behind Harry began writing again. He seemed to take a breath, relaxing a bit, though the class was still warry of what he would do. "I suppose most witches and wizards can't even see them, so they don't believe they're important to learn about. The Ministry deems them dangerous, but I don't think they're so bad, especially the ones at Hogwarts."

The board behind him now said _Thestrals: skeletal appearance, wings, carnivores, omens_

"Can someone offer any insight on Thestrals? I've some words here on the board, anyone care to explain them?"

Gemini, though genuinely curious about the lesson, had not read anything on Thestrals. In fact, he saw that no one's hand was up. Apparently he was not the only one.

"Alright then," Harry pulled out his wand. "Let me see if I can…" a sort of bright blue liquid emitted from the tip of his wand and stayed floating in the air as if there was no gravity around it. "…draw this so that you all can understand what it looks like." Harry moved it this way and that, slowly creating a miniature picture of a thestral. Though it was far from perfect when he was finished, he was sure his students would get the idea. "Its body is like the skeleton of a horse, and his head is a sort of reptilian skull. Its wings are bat-like. It's rather obvious why it's seen as an omen due to its appearance, but can anyone else guess why it's generally not discussed?"

Gemini glanced around again, eyes a shade of bronze, noticing no one was daring to put their hand up. He wanted to say something, but he also didn't want to be wrong.

"You'll probably learn more about them in Care of Magical Creatures as you go through your studies at Hogwarts," Harry finally said through the silence. "Then you all can know the answers no one else will know." He smirked. "Thestrals," he continued, "can only be seen by those who have witnessed death, and understood it. If someone can see a thestral and you cannot, do not ask them why. And if you can see them, don't be scared of them. They are actually rather friendly and are very fast flyers." The board behind him erased itself. "That wasn't the actual lesson for today." Harry waved his hand through the picture of the thestral he drew and is faded away as if it was made of smoke. "Let's get back onto something you all will know about." The chalk began writing something else. "Dragons. Someone, anyone, name a kind of dragon."

Immediately hands were in the air.

"Yes, Peter."

"Chinese Fireball."

Harry smiled. The class breathed easy. This was their professor. "Ah, yes. The Lion Dragon. Scarlet scales, gold spikes around its yellow eyes, always full of _lots_ of fire." He watched as the students scribbled furiously and waited a moment of two before asking, "Another one?" He pointed to a girl with her hand up.

"Hebridgean Black."

"Yes, one native to Scotland. Black scales, obviously, arrow-like spike on its tail, ridges along its back, needs _lots_ of territory and can get pretty aggressive over it. Next." He looked around and saw Gemini's hand up. "Yes, Gemini."

"Hungarian Horntail."

"Ah, a favorite of mine." Harry smiled again. "Native to Hungary, lizard-like in appearance, black scales, spikes along its tail all the way to its back, fast flyers, _extremely ferocious_. If ever encountered, never engage."

The rest of class went on with blissful ease. Harry seemed to love all of his students who liked to learn, from any house. Before long, Gemini found that class was over. As the students filed out of the room, Gemini came up to Harry at the front of the room, eyes fading from purple to a dull yellow.

"When will I know about the training?" he asked, concernedly.

Harry gave him a warm smile. "I will send you a Patronus as soon as I know. Will that suffice?"

Gemini nodded, feeling less nervous about it, though not entirely. "Yes, thank you, Professor."

As he left the room, Gemini couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to the fun that would be animagus training. If the headmistress let him, he could be the first ever eleven-year-old to become one. The thought filled his bullied heart with bliss. He would mean something to the world, at last.

But his logic, or perhaps his insecurity, spoke to him. _They won't let you_ , it said, _you're too young. You don't know enough. You aren't skilled enough._

_But I've studied so hard_ , another part of him said. _I can do just about any spell they'll teach me this year. Transfiguration is easy. I can turn a million mice into crystal wine glasses. They have to let me._

Gemini sighed, eyes flickering between colors with each blink with such bright contrast that he was attracting attention. Apparently, too much attention.

"Hey, Freak."

Out of habit, Gemini turned around.

"Tell your eyes to pick a color like _normal people_ 's do." Hands on his hip, Pavo Parkinson smirked at a remark he believed to be very humorous. He was going through a phase where he tried to independently bully people, without the back-up of Scorpius and Amril. So far, it was not going well for anyone involved.

Though no one laughed, Gemini was suddenly self-conscious, feeling as if everyone was ogling him and his weirdness. "I can't really stop it," he said rather helplessly.

"Hahaha," Pavo said rather loudly in a manner not much like laughter. "You hear that?" he asked no one in particular. "He can't even control his weirdness. It just runs amuck, like your friends. Oh wait," Pavo glanced around exaggeratingly, "You don't have any."

Gemini felt his heart drop into his stomach as he realized Pavo was right. He had no one. No family. No friends. No one. A familiar navy blue came into his eyes.

"Hey, Parkinson! Shove off!" Someone from a nearby crowd shouted. They both turned to look and saw Lily there, flanked by Hugo and Rose.

Pavo scoffed. "Oh no," he said sarcastically, "three Weasleys. What are you going to do? Poor me to death?"

Rose drew up her nose in a confused manner. "You're not even good at comebacks. Nothing you say makes sense."

"You hear that?" he said rather loudly. "The Weasleys are trying to tell me what to do!"

Hugo glanced around. "Who are you even talking to? Malfoy and Zabini aren't here."

"Face it, Parkinson," Lily pitched in, "You're no good without them. You're like a body without a head."

Though Pavo seemed to be forming a comeback, Gemini suddenly spoke up, trying to ease the growing tension in the air.

"I see your parents kept with the tradition of naming children after constellations as well. Pavo is a set of stars in the southern sky, named after a Greek myth involving Argos. It means peacock."

Gemini heard laughter erupt and was surprised to find it wasn't because someone was making fun of him.

"Your name is _Peacock_?" Lily managed between bursts of laughter.

"Hey Peacock," Hugo said, "why don't you go flaunt all your pretty feathers?"

The trio could hardly catch their breath enough to speak as they watched Pavo's cheeks become bright pink. "Yeah, _Peacock_. Aren't you a _pretty bird_?"

"Pretty bird, pretty bird," the trio began to chant.

As Lily was about to say something else, Gemini spoke up again.

"Stop," he said rather forcefully, causing Lily, Rose, and Hugo to stop flat. "None of that is funny. It's just hurtful."

The others simply stared at him, and a few of the people in nearby crowds stared as well. It was one thing to speak up to a Pavo, but to people that were _on his side_?

Gemini was suddenly full of anger. He had thought these people were good people, but maybe he had been wrong. He didn't like bullies. Clenching his fists, he could feel the heat rise up in his face. His once blue eyes were now red and his mousy brown hair was darkening to ebony. He thought about yelling at them all about saying hurtful things to people, but decided to turn around and head to class, as he had been doing before this whole mess.

Everyone still stared as he walked off. Lily instantly felt a stab of guilt, along with Rose and Hugo. They hadn't meant to offend Gemini. They just wanted to get Pavo off his back.

Pavo stood, confused with every fiber of his being. He fixed a piece of his straight, black hair that had fallen out of place and looked to the trio beside him. "What just happened? Isn't he supposed to be mean to _me_?"

Rose sighed. "Oh dear, I think we've really made him angry."

Gemini stormed down the hallway. With each step, a cloud of magic around him caused huge gusts of wind to blow; those walking by him lost their papers and had their hair and robes blown about them in a tangled mess. Every so often, there would be a flash of light, as if there was a storm brewing around him. His whole being was tensed, the lean muscles of his forearms revealing veins. There were some times that he would do push-ups or sit-ups to try and get his mind of the anger he felt at the unfair world, but he didn't think that would be a good idea at school, on his way to class. Instead, Gemini turned down a deserted hallway and began to release the storm even bigger.

Sparks erupted from his hands and his robes blew this way and that as the winds around him expanded and contracted their tornado-like spiral. Gemini, in the center of it all, tried to stop himself from shouting his anger at the world. Why couldn't people get along? Why was everyone so obsessed with having an eye for an eye? Was that really the world's definition of justice? All his life he had been the odd one out, the freak. He had once thought they couldn't see his good heart and intentions, but now he wondered if maybe they were all right. He was not a piece of anything they were. He would never have friends. He would never have family. He would never be normal.

Maybe there was more to life than "normal."

Gemini felt something rise within him, far more intense than anger. With each breath, he felt it. It made his black hair blow about his face. It made the tips of his fingers feel numb and the tips of his teeth feel sharp. He watched with red eyes as the wallpaper was ripped from the walls. The doors nearby began to rattle, holding to their frames with all their might. The floor beneath him seemed to quake. Or was that just his legs? Everything he felt was too much too contain in his little body. His heart raced and his breathing quickened. He could feel it, around him, in his hands, in his veins; it overwhelmed him, becoming him.

Power.

He had all sorts of power in his grasp. If the walls were ripping, imagine what he could do to people. If the doors were rattling, imagine what he could do to the school. If the floor was shaking, imagine what he could do to…

Gemini suddenly felt all the power drain from him, as if someone pulled the plug and let all the magic out. The winds stopped, leaving the hallway eerily quiet and strewn about with pieces of wallpaper. His shaking legs gave out under him, and he fell to his knees as all the color drained from him, leaving him with sickly pale skin, white hair, and very pale blue eyes. The world began to blur, and though Gemini tried to steady himself with his hands, he fell onto his side. Gemini, with one last wave of his hand, sent a flurry of red sparks out of the deserted hallway and into the main one, towards people. The world around him seemed to dance, moving too fast to be clear. His body, tired and worn, relaxed, and his vision caught just a glimpse of bright green eyes before being forced into blackness.

...

Gemini opened his eyes again to the face of Madam Pomfrey, holding a potion in her hands and a grimace on her face.

"Next time you want to drain all of your magic, please _do think twice_."

Gemini tried to raise his arm in an attempt to ask for the potion, but found it was so weak it hardly moved at all. He felt like he had run a hundred miles in one sitting.

"Now don't try to move. You need to gain back all of your strength, first, or you'll injure yourself." Madam Pomfrey poured some of the potion into a tiny cup and held it to his mouth. "I'll warn you: this potion tastes like rotten pumpkin juice."

Almost as soon as the potion touched his tongue, Gemini wished she had warned him sooner. He nearly gagged, but hardly even had the strength to do that. Instead, he let it flow down his throat without much but a cough, which left him with a pain in his stomach.

Madam Pomfrey turned and grabbed a tray full of food off the side table and placed it in front of him. "Now, wait a moment for some ease to return to your movements. And eat up. It will help your body replenish the magic on its own."

She walked away just as Gemini felt some of the strength come back into his body. He was dying to get the taste of that potion out of his mouth. With a careful slowness, he grabbed a roll off his plate and bit into it. The surface was flaky and crisp, but the inside was delightfully soft and sweet in his mouth. He relished the taste, allowing himself a deeper respect for food than he had before. In moments, the roll was gone, and he was reaching for one of the cut up bits of chicken when he noticed a ghostly stag standing in front of him.

"Gemini," it said in the voice of Harry Potter, "the headmistress has allowed you to participate in animagus training. Remember the first meeting is tonight at seven sharp. Professor Davies and I, as well as Headmistress Patil, expect your full attention at each and every meeting. Any sort of slacking on your part could result in a dangerous mishap." The stag paused a moment, and Gemini could have sworn it raised an eyebrow at him. "I hear you have already landed yourself in the hospital wing. Be sure to make up the classwork you missed and," the stag's expression seemed to soften, "do listen to Madam Pomfrey. Feel better soon." As soon as the message finished, the stag faded to wisps that dissolved into the air.

Gemini smiled to himself and picked up a piece of chicken. He felt oddly at home in that moment, though he wasn't sure why. He'd never had a home before.

He ate in silence, simply enjoying his food. When he finished, Madam Pomfrey came back and placed the empty tray back on the side table. "There is a guest here to see you," she said with a small smile. She walked off and returned once more with Albus following behind. "Do _not_ strain him, Mr. Potter. If he does not respond immediately, be patient with him. And if his hair goes white," she gave a stern look to Gemini, as if reminding him that changing hair colors involuntarily used magic he couldn't spare, "let me know _immediately_."

Albus nodded and turned to Gemini with a somber smile.

"Hey, Gemini."

"Hi," Gemini responded, voice hoarse. The act of using his voice felt like he was trying to sing opera; he hardly managed to get enough air afterwards. Madam Pomfrey hadn't told him outright that it would take a lot of energy to talk, but she had implied it.

They both looked at each other a moment, noting one another's eye color-Albus's bright green almond eyes and Gemini's large one-blue-one-brown eyes-and then looked away awkwardly.

"Professor Davies gave me your assignments for his class." Albus held up a long roll of parchment. "I hope you don't mind that I looked over it. You've got to be able to turn a bug into a pair of spectacles by next class."

Gemini let a small smirk grow. "Done."

Albus nodded. "He figured as much."

Gemini scanned Albus over and realized that was the only thing of parchment he had. "Time?"

"Lunch, fortunately for you. You've only missed one class."

Gemini smiled, content that he might still be able to make it to his other classes. He had a flying lesson today that he didn't want to miss. "Good."

Albus, curious about the boy, wondered. He had arrived to a strange sight, earlier: Gemini, his entire body completely pale, surrounded by wallpaper ripped from the walls and splinters of wood from the doors. He seemed to have been by himself. So what caused it? Was it Gemini himself?

"What happened, Gemini? When I found you, the hallway looked like it had been attacked."

Gemini's smile faded. "Anger."

Albus was confused. "Anger?" He thought but a moment and made a connection. Though he had never done so himself, he had heard of wizards so powerful that they made things happen without meaning to, especially when their emotions were out of control. His father had been one of those wizards. He guessed Gemini was one of them, too. Albus suddenly found himself nodding, looking at Gemini in a slightly different light. He was a powerful wizard, and he was only eleven. Though, from what his father had told him, he had been eleven and had done some crazy things with magic, too.

Gemini let his eyes wonder the room, looking at anything but Albus. He felt he was being judged, and judging never went in his favor. "Bully," he whispered.

Albus nodded again. "I understand. I get bullied, too. Believe it or not, the Slytherins in my year call me things like 'Chosen Second', 'The Little Light' and "Boy Who Lived Junior' and they think it's the funniest joke in the world." Albus felt the memories like a scar. "Like it's an insult to have my father," he said quietly.

Gemini sighed. "Orphan." That word took so much more than energy out of him. He hated that word. It wasn't him. But it was.

"I'm sorry." Albus didn't know what else to say. Being an orphan wasn't something anyone could change. He wasn't sure apologizing was even the appropriate response. It wasn't his fault that Gemini was an orphan. But was saying "sorry" just for making something right that you've done wrong?

He had studied some Spanish a couple of years ago (when they took a family trip to Spain), and found that the Spanish "I'm sorry" was "Lo siento" which is translated as "It, I feel." Apologizing there, at least for his novice Spanish skills, was more of relating to the person, saying you understand the wrong-doing, whether you did it or someone else. Albus like that use much more.

They were quiet a moment, not quite knowing what to say but feeling the need to speak. They were much too young and not yet close enough to realize they both wanted the silence.

"Who got you so angry?" Albus asked, in an attempt to keep up the conversation.

Gemini made a move to shrug, but found it took more effort than he last remembered. Albus, though unsure of what he was doing, let the question slip as another popped into his head.

"Have you ever done this to yourself before?"

Though Gemini opened his mouth a bit, he was unsure of how to answer. He had been angry before, more angry than he had been back in that hallway, but he wasn't sure he'd ever felt the power he had felt there, surrounded by his magic, knowing he was in control of it. Perhaps it was his vastly grown knowledge that had caused his outburst. Knowledge was truly Power.

"No," he said. "Muggle-borne."

Albus nodded absentmindedly, not really sure if he wanted to ask more about Gemini's life. If he was an orphan, growing up surrounded by the muggle world, he was not sure Gemini would be willing to share it all. They weren't really friends. He'd talked to the boy twice, including this conversation. Albus wouldn't want to share his life story, either, and he'd had a pretty good life.

Gemini wished he could talk more. More than anything, he wanted to ask Albus all about his father. Book after book, Gemini had read about the Boy-Who-Lived, the great savior of the Wizarding world, and still he wanted to know more. There were many levels that he related to the young Harry in the stories. He was an orphan, growing up in a terrible place, making strange things happen and getting punished for it, being told he was a wizard at eleven, being whisked into the beauty of the Hogwarts. Of course, Gemini also knew what was to come: returning to the terrible place each summer, feeling miserable not being able to do magic, being left out of all sorts of news. Indeed, he could relate to Harry Potter.

For now, all Gemini could do was take as many of Harry's classes as he'd be allowed to. If Harry started teaching a class on shining toad eyes, he would not hesitate to take it. Harry Potter was his idol, and everything he wanted to grow up to be. Gemini smiled, remembering that he would be at training later that day with The Chosen One himself. It made him giddy. If only he had the energy to be giddy.

While Gemini was stuck in his thoughts, Albus wondered if maybe, somewhere down Gemini's family tree, there was a branch that connected to Teddy Lupin. Maybe Albus would go looking to find out. He'd have to remember to do that. Maybe he could do it after he finished his homework. Of course, he'd have to go pretty late, since Professor Nott had given them twelve inches all about various types of draughts; it wouldn't be hard, just time-consuming…

Madam Pomfrey came back and smiled at Gemini. "Well, your color seems to have come back just fine. How are you feeling?"

Gemini looked up at her and nodded. "Much better. Weak, still."

Madam Pomfrey pulled the potion bottle she had before from a pocket and poured another little cup for him to drink. "This should perk you right up, then. Just in time for class."

Though Gemini made a face, he took the little cup and drank it down, as fast as he could to stop himself from tasting it. He still got a bit, causing his face to shrivel in such a comical way that Albus had to contain a chuckle.

Madam Pomfrey took the cup out of his hand. "Let me know when you feel better and you can head right off to class."

Gemini nodded thankfully, though still tasting the terrible potion.

"Oh!" Albus said suddenly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chocolate frog box. "Here. I bet it tastes _much_ better."

Gemini, grateful for the small gift, immediately opened the box and caught the frog that attempted to hop out, quickly biting off its head. He felt the awful taste fade away, quite content with the new sweetness that replaced it. He peered curiously into the box and found the card. "Albus Dumbledore." He looked back at Albus curiously. "Albus?"

Albus nodded. "Yeah. My dad pretty much owed Dumbledore his life. He was a brave man and a powerful wizard; the only one Voldemort ever feared. He named me after him. He has a thing for naming his kids after wizards he used to know. Great wizards. Ones he cared about."

Gemini chewed, pondering the idea a bit. "Albus Dumbledore Potter?"

Albus chuckled. "Albus Severus Potter, actually. He wanted to have room for multiple people in each name, I guess. I can't complain. I got two fantastic wizards that risked their lives for my dad to keep him safe. Without them, he may not be here today."

Gemini took another bite off the chocolate frog and pondered some more. He was truly curious about this subject. "Lily and James, too?"

Albus nodded. "James Sirius Potter and Lily Luna Potter."

At the mention of his brother's middle name, Gemini's eyes turned turquoise. "Sirius? Sirius Black?"

Albus nodded. "He was my grandfather's best friend and my dad's godfather."

Gemini slowly began to piece the stories to the names. Sirius Black was his godfather wrongly put into Azkaban. Albus Dumbledore was his headmaster. It was all starting to make sense. The stories were starting to feel less like stories and more like history. These people really lived and made an impact on people's lives. Maybe someone would name their child after him someday.

Carefully, Gemini got down from the bed and tested out his legs. He found them rather sturdy, hardly wobbly. As he slowly made his way to Madam Pomfrey, Albus followed beside him, just in case.

"Madam Pomfrey," Gemini said quietly at her office door, "I feel much better."

Madam Pomfrey looked to Gemini and smiled, glad to see his eyes were changing colors again. "Wonderful," she replied, before her face went back to the stern expression she usually wore. "Now be careful going to class. Don't over extend yourself while practicing magic, today. Eat a good dinner, as well. If you are feeling weak later, come by again for more potion. Do _not_ , under any circumstances, prevent yourself from coming back here if you need to."

Gemini nodded, but Albus piped up, "I'll keep an eye on him."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. That seemed to be good enough for her. "Alright, then. Off to class."

Gemini and Albus left the hospital wing, each of their minds wondering to what the future held.


	16. Papers Once Lost

As soon as classes finished, Harry Potter went into his office and apparated before the beautiful bookcases of Tom's library. He glanced around the room again, taking in the beauty. He wasn't sure what it was about how the room was decorated that he enjoyed; Harry wasn't typically one to enjoy such extravagance, but it seemed perfectly lavish. He gave a content sigh and looked to Draco, sitting in the same spot he had left him in this morning.

"Long time, no see," Draco said unenthusiastically, not even bothering to look up from what he was reading. "Not long enough," he said under his breath, but Harry heard.

"I didn't miss you, either," he replied. "But, I did find out something you'll like to hear."

Draco met his gaze. "You've already been fired from Hogwarts?"

Harry opened his mouth, rather offended, and took a few moments to gather his words. "W-what? No, I haven't. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, this morning? Why are you being such a prat?"

"Unlike you, I didn't sleep." Draco looked back down at his book. "What did you find out?"

Before Harry cared to explain his findings, he asked, "You didn't sleep? Why not? You've had plenty of time."

Draco did not bother to answer, choosing simply to ignore Harry. He would never admit weakness to Harry if he could help it; not after the last time.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "He told me to put a drop of blood into the fireplace. It should make his potions lab appear."

"Excellent," Draco replied, "go prick your finger, then."

Though Harry was going to protest, he decided that pricking his finger or hand would probably the best thing; he didn't expect Draco to do it. "Okay," he said as he walked to the fireplace. "Do you have anything sharp?"

"I…no." Draco closed the book in his hands, staring at Harry with a mixture of confusion and incredulousness. Apparently, he had not meant it. "Let's just use dragon blood."

Harry pondered over the idea a moment. "Will that work? Wouldn't it have to be human blood?"

"I don't know. Did…did he specify?" Draco put down the book. Harry couldn't read the full title, but saw _Wandlore_ in big letters.

"No. He just said to put a drop of blood in the fireplace. I assumed he meant wizard blood."

Draco smoothed down his hair calmly. "Let's try dragon's blood, first. Save ourselves the pain." He undid the first button of his shirt but paused and looked at Harry once more. "I'm getting out my emergency potions ingredients. Don't get any weird thoughts."

Harry just gave him a questioning look.

Draco undid a few more buttons before stopping once more. "Do you have to watch me?"

"I wasn't…"Harry began, but at that moment saw the tip of a thin, pale scar on his chest. "Sorry," he said, turning around. He was suddenly embarrassed; he'd seen more of Draco than he'd ever wanted to know about. Scars? On his chest?

Draco finished unbuttoning his shirt, untucking it so he could easily get to the shrunken vials that were attached to his lower torso. Though the process of having the holder implanted into him had been torturous, he had felt it came in handy for him on more than one occasion. He pulled up the vial of dragon's blood and placed it on the table, running a gentle hand over the many scars on his chest before buttoning his shirt back up.

"Alright," he said after a moment, picking up the dragon's blood and returned it to its normal size.

Harry turned to the fireplace, but did not look at Draco. "We'll try this, but if it doesn't work, we'll have to try something else."

Draco nodded and uncorked the vial before the fireplace. He carefully let the scarlet liquid spill over just enough so that one drop fell into the stone and ashes of the fireplace. He rebottled it and slid it into his pocket.

At once, flames began to burn. The two men looked to each other and began to approach the fire, wondering if it was like the Floo, but found it was emitting heat. After a moment, the flame subsided into nothingness.

Harry glanced around, wondering if maybe something had appeared behind them, but found the room remained unchanged. "I don't think it worked."

Draco squinted into the fireplace, but could see nothing that suggested a change. "Guess you'll have to prick, then."

"Yeah," Harry picked up a book and transfigured it into a small blade. Slowly, but with a steady hand, he let the tip bite into the side of his hand-though a bit more than he had planned-until his blood began to run onto the blade. He held the blade over the fireplace, tapping on it so that one drop of his blood fell onto the ashes.

After a moment of nothing, they heard a crackling and small, black flames began to grow until an adequate fire was before them. They watched it, but nothing more seemed to happen.

Harry once again glanced around the room and saw now that one bookcase against the far wall had swung open. He stared at the door, the entrance dark and mysterious, and went to tap Draco with a hand to gather his attention, but instead heard, " _Potter!_ Don't touch me with your bloody hand."

Looking down to his hand, he found the blood had begun running down his last two fingers and dripping onto the floor. He pulled out his wand and performed a quick healing spell on himself, as well as a cleaning spell on his hand and the carpet. Soon enough, his hand was back to normal.

He left Draco behind him, staring, and approached the entrance. Silently, he cast a wand-lighting charm, revealing a dusty, old room within the darkened space. There seemed to be torches on the wall, with blackened tips. Was that really the light source of the room? _How archaic_ , he thought.

" _ **Incendio**_."

Harry watched as the torch just across from him caught fire, spilling light into the room. Soon after, a small ring of fire began to spread around the room, catching the other torches on fire, as well. In moments, the entire room was well-lit, revealing a wooden table with various empty bottles in various sizes, a wall with shelves upon shelves filled with potions, and a gigantic stack of books upon the only wooden chair. It was rather dull, looking, but Harry supposed that must have been Tom's tastes. How he decorated that library, or why, the way he did, Harry would never know.

Draco was beside him now, peering into the room with suspicion. "We won't be cursed when we walk in, right?"

"Probably not," replied Harry. He wasn't sure, but he could safely assume that Tom would tell him if there was more protection on the room, right? He took in a breath and stepped through the door with confidence, something he hadn't felt in a while. Why did he have confidence now, of all times?

He glanced around, but nothing seemed to happen. He turned to Draco with a smirk. "See? What were you scared for? There's no need to-"

There was a bright flash of light between them, and they were both blown further into the room by an invisible force. They crumpled to the ground, not able to gather more strength than what was pushing them down, and the door behind them closed with a loud bang. Once it closed, everything stopped.

Draco was the first to sit up. "We're not dead."

Harry groaned. "Easy for you to say," he said as he tried to move his legs, which were underneath Draco. "You didn't have someone fall on top of you."

"I mean the trap didn't kill us." He narrowed his eyes as he looked around. "Why didn't it kill us?"

"Did you want it to kill us?" Harry asked in confusion. He managed to pull his legs free, finding they felt a bit bruised.

"If it didn't kill us, what's the trap?" Draco stood, not seeming to have been hurt even a scratch. He went over to the door and tried to open it. "Locked?" He pulled out his wand. " _ **Alohamora**_." He tried to open it again, but it didn't budge. "Oh no," he said in a quiet tone, slowly getting louder as the panic sunk in. "Oh no." He threw every spell he had at it, from _**Bombarda**_ to transfiguration spells. Nothing seemed to even phase it. "No, no, no no, _no! No! NO!_ "

Harry watched Draco become rather panicked, verging on the edge of hysterical. They were in a locked room. They'd figure a way out. Harry didn't feel the panic before he felt the adrenaline; it kept him calm, and it kept him moving. He looked to the wall filled with potions on it and studied them carefully before picking one up and throwing it at Draco, hitting him square in the head.

Though Harry hadn't thrown it very hard, Draco almost toppled over. The bottle fell to the ground and shattered below him. Draco gave Harry an incredulous stare. "What in Merlin's name was that for? We're stuck in a room and you're throwing _potions at me?_! What the fucking hell, Potter?!"

Harry watched straight-faced as grey fumes began to form around Draco, whose yelling quickly quieted down to a whisper. His grey eyes were fading into anger as his movements became slow. "What the…fucking…hell…"

Harry shrugged. "I'll be honest, I thought it was a calming draught. It seems to be a time-slowing potion. They look almost alike. It was a 50-50 chance."

"How…dare…you… _Potter_ …" Draco's face slowly morphed into one of rage. He seemed that he might be about to yell but never seemed to get to the words he was looking for. It was difficult for Harry to tell since it was all in slow motion. "Un…dooo…" Draco began, though he seemed to get slower every moment that passed, "thiiiiss…Poootterrr…"

"Right," Harry turned back to the wall of potions, searching for one that was red with black things floating in it. He stopped mid-way through his search. "Wait." He turned to face Draco, wand out. " _ **Finite Incantatem**_."

Though the potion did not immediately release its hold, Draco seemed to be gaining speed again. "Fiiiinally…yesss…thank…you…"

Harry gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that."

Draco scoffed. "Sorry…my arse…calming draughts…clearly are different…from time-slowing potions because of the purple sheen it has."

They both looked to the broken glass on the ground and then back at each other.

Draco said sternly, "You should at least clean up your mess."

Not a second after he finished, a gust of wind came from across the room, blowing the glass up into the air. Harry and Draco were both pushed and pulled by it, trying their hardest to not be dragged around. Draco grabbed onto the door handle and held tightly. Harry tried to hold onto the potion shelves, but pushed one in a silver bottle off. Instead of shattering on the floor, the bottle was merely squished, like a ripe tomato, and pearly white liquid began to leak out. The winds stopped, dropping the glass into a glass bin on the other side of the room.

Harry and Draco released their tethers and looked to the bottle on the ground.

"Is that a real silver bottle?" Draco questioned. "Harry, you just spilled a complicated potion. There are only a few potions that react with glass."

As they stared at the pearly liquid, it seemed to evaporate.

"Great," Draco held his nose with one hand and wafted the air just before his face with the other. "It reacts with air, too."

Though Harry saw the precautions Draco was taking, he breathed normally, instead using his hands to pick up the silver bottle to verify that the entire potion was now gone. He felt a strange feeling coming over him, as if maybe he was about to sneeze, or maybe burst into tears. The world around him grew dark, and he heard a voice speaking, but it wasn't Draco's. It was deep and rich, and familiar.

"It seemed I had been laying on this bed for years of my life. Years and years, wasted. Wasn't that the story of my life? Oh no, the story of my life was fighting an evil wizard, seeming to dodge his attempts to kill me at every turn. I won. What was there to do now? My life felt over. I was over. The war had taken my loved ones. The end of war had taken away my fame. The adventure had brought about my nightmares. The lack of adventure had brought about boredom. I was nothing until I was an auror. When I was an auror, life had a point. When I was Head Auror, I was me again. My family saw me as the man I truly was. To the public, I was a hero. The evil in my dreams was being defeated, day after day, so I could sleep at night. The terrible was over, but the adventure was just beginning. It wasn't until I lost that job did I figure out that I was really nothing. There was no such thing as Harry Potter. He was just a myth. I spent the school years of my life trying to tell people that, and then the rest of it trying to make him real. Really, all along, I was just a regular boy that people believed in who had luck always on his side. And when I lost my job, I realized that. I feel it in my heart every day, but I bury it, deep down where I can't feel it. I bury the sadness and brokenness until I am the man I want to be. Even then, everything I do is for the sake of others, because I mean nothing to myself anymore. The only reason I eat three meals a day is because it's scheduled. The only reason I teach classes is because the students deserve a better future than I have. The only reason I didn't fight for my children and my house and my wife is because they were better off without me. I feel so ashamed, as if I'm not worthy of even being alive some days, and I bury it as deep as it will go until I can hardly feel a thing."

It was Harry's own voice, but his lips had not been moving. Tears made his way down his face. Those were his innermost thoughts, things he didn't dare think to himself, but things he felt sometimes deep in his dreams. The room was silent and dark, as if he had just woken up in the Grimmauld Place once again, and this whole thing had just been a dream. Was it all a dream? He wasn't sure he could bear if it was, but moments later, he heard another voice: Draco's.

"I grew up feeling privileged. My life was everything I could have ever wanted. My family cared for me. We could be happy and do whatever we pleased, together. It wasn't until I was old enough that I realized that privilege came at a price. I could have things I wanted, as long as I could act like a proper pure-blooded wizard. And if I didn't, there were consequences. The price always got higher and higher, and the rewards smaller and smaller. I could have my own Nimbus 2000 if I could make Harry Potter my friend. I could choose my future wife if I could just convince the Zabini family to choose the Dark Lord. I could be able to eat dinner with my family if I could stop Dumbledore's Army. I could stop my beatings if I could just murder Dumbledore and stop cursing students on accident. I could keep my honor if I killed Potter myself in the Room of Requirement. But I couldn't handle it all. I didn't want this life, but there was no escape from it. When the Dark Lord came back, I was his servant and he was my malevolent master. He would hardly show mercy to his followers, and absolutely none to anyone else. I watched him murder. I watched him torture. I felt him torture. I fell apart inside as he did things I never imagined. I was scared every second of my life, and I pretended it was confidence, loyalty, privilege. I had no choice in anything. I followed because I was forced to, and the scars on my body forever remind me of that. I still feel powerless in my own life, even if the Dark Lord is dead because what he did will never truly be gone."

The light returned to the room, and both Harry and Draco found themselves lying on the floor in tears as terrible memories ran through their minds. For a long while, they said nothing to one another, just lost in their pasts. After a long while, Draco sat back up.

"What was that?" Harry whispered.

Harry didn't bother moving. Draco knew his inner most thoughts. Surely any sort of tolerance they had for one another was gone for good.

"Timere Tentantes," Draco replied quietly. He stared at Harry as he tried to remember what the words meant in Latin. "Fear Tempting," he said at last, his chest trembling from his still shaky breathing. "Sounds terrible."

"It is," Harry barely said. Those were the words he had never wanted to hear. Harry Potter was nothing. He was nothing. How did he move past this? How could he even try? Every fiber of his being dreaded the thought of returning to living. Could he not just lay here and wither away, like he wanted to?

"Harry," Draco spoke up, "you're not nothing. Harry Potter was more than a great wizard who killed an evil one. Harry Potter _is_ a great wizard, one whose magic could be taken away and still be thought of as a good man." Draco watched, waiting for Harry to get up, and wondering if he was breathing because he seemed like a statue. "You're the spokeswizard for courage and morals. Everything you do is for others, Harry. How can you be nothing if everyone sees you as something great?"

After a moment, letting Draco's words sink in, Harry blinked and took a big breath. Had he been breathing? He wasn't sure, but it felt good to breathe now. His lungs were no longer burning. He turned his head towards Draco and met his eyes. "I feel like you do, sometimes. Powerless. At the mercy of something the Dark Lord did long ago. Wounds heal but there are always scars." He was quiet a moment before adding, "I still have nightmares," in a quiet whisper.

"If you have nightmares, why do have a portrait of him in your room?" Draco's face was frustrated, now. "Why are you here trying to help him? You know what he did the first two times. Why let him have another chance?"

Harry instantly sat up. "He's not the Dark Lord, anymore. He's just Tom Riddle. I won't let him rise to power again."

"How do you know he is not the Dark Lord anymore? Did he tell you that?" Draco was on the verge of yelling now, angry tears rolling down his face. "Of course he'd say that! He's a monster! All he does is use people and abuse his way back to the top!"

Harry was suddenly angry as well. "He only became a monster because people said he was a monster. No one gave him a chance."

"Were you there? Or has he been feeding you more lies?! He manipulates people! He's a _Slytherin_ , for fucks sake! We all try to get what we want, and he wants it all! He'll do anything to get it!"

Harry stood and glared down at Draco, fists clenched. "Is wanting to be great so bad? What's wrong with wanting the whole world to know your name and the great things you've done? What's so evil about that?!"

Draco shook his head. "You're not like him, Harry. He's a terrible beast, that man. He was incapable of showing mercy to _his followers_ , Harry! The loyal ones got the most punishment! He killed muggles, he tortured and killed mudbloods, and he tortured and killed his own followers! That is not greatness."

Harry opened his mouth but shut it again. He was too angry to think. He pulled a potion off the shelf and threw it at Draco, not even caring what it was. Draco batted it away and it shattered beside him, leaving behind a pink liquid.

"Harry! You know that I'm-"

Harry pulled off another potion and threw it at Draco, who batted it away again. As Harry was pulling another one off the shelf, he found it wouldn't come up but, but instead just moved forward a bit. He turned around to try and yank it off, but realized it was a lever. His anger diminished as he curiously pulled it forward. The wall clicked and swung open.

Draco's anger had left as well. "What kind of magic is that?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not magic. It's a muggle thing. Hidden rooms behind bookcases." He carefully opened the door, trying not to knock any of the potions off the door, and peered inside.

The room was small, lit by a single naked bulb, and empty except for a table, chair, a stack of papers, and a few stacks of leather-bound books. Harry stepped into the room and to the table. The books had no titles on them, or any markings at all past a single Roman numeral on the spines. He picked up the first paper on top of the stack, seeing that it was a birth certificate. It read, _Tom Marvolo Riddle, born December 26_ _th_ _, 1926_. Where the parents typically sign was blank. Instead, there was a stamp beneath the line that read _Wool's Orphanage, London_. Harry furrowed his brow and moved onto the next paper. Draco, who was behind him now, took the birth certificate from his hand. The next papers were old and yellowed legal documents of guardianship, unsigned. He kept going through the papers, finding more and more legal documents, some signed, some not, about various things; inheritance of the Gaunt estate, joint guardianship, deeds to properties and land. At the very bottom, Harry found a black-and-white picture of a man and a woman. The woman, who Harry had seen but once before, was rather heavy, with eyes that seemed to be looking in different directions, limp dark hair, and pale skin. The man looked almost exactly like Tom, but more rugged with a well-trimmed beard. They were dressed in rather fancy clothing, as if they were going to a ball.

"Who are they?" Draco asked, looking over Harry's shoulder.

"Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Senior."

Draco's eyebrows rose. "His parents?"

Harry nodded. They seemed so serious in the picture, and there was no movement, either, as wizard photographs have. Harry guessed this was a very old muggle photograph. He was sure he remembered seeing them at a museum trip once, though he couldn't remember what they had been pictures of; war, maybe? He wasn't sure. As he looked over the picture, noting the rather grainy quality, his mind drifted to thoughts of Ginny.

He was sure he had loved Ginny, at some point of his life, but he couldn't remember when he had stopped. Had he stopped? Was it that other things were just more important to him? Or maybe he had stopped loving her long ago, and he just stayed with her because it's what he had done for so long. Harry looked at the man who had been overtaken by a love potion, thinking he loved a woman for so long, and then abandoning her and her child. He couldn't help but feel his situation was similar.

Harry shook his head and put back the stack of papers. He had nearly forgotten that Draco was there, and they were on a mission, of sorts. He turned to find that Draco had cracked open one of the leather-bound books. "What are they?"

Draco flipped the page and began scanning the next. "They're diaries."

"Diaries?" Harry questioned, peering over Draco's shoulder at the messy, child-like handwriting. He was apparently a few pages in, already.

_Diary,_

_You are still rather embarrassing to have, but I suppose that you and I can help one another. I will protect you, and you will hold all of my secrets. Got it?_

_Today, while we were to be playing outside, I hid beneath a ledge of an open window and could hear Madam Wool talking to Madam Reese. She said I was a devil-child and that I needed more help than they could give me. Madam Reese did not say anything, but I know she agreed. Everyone agrees. Maybe even I agree. I cannot help the mysterious things that occur around me. I must be cursed. I-_

Draco turned the page.

"Hey!" Harry said suddenly. "I wasn't done."

Draco didn't bother turning back, and so Harry just began reading the next page.

_Diary,_

_How I loathe the children here. I learned the word "loathe" today. It is much better than the word "hate." It feels so much stronger, so much more powerful. I read it in the dictionary when Madam Peddy had me copying from it for setting the cupboards on fire, but it was not me. At this rate, I will have read the entire dictionary and have a permanently red bottom before I reach my birthday this year._

_But today, I also discovered that snakes seem to like me. I found one tiny green one at the edge of the field and she wrapped her tail about my little finger. I told her that we are not allowed pets at the home, and she seemed to understand, but snakes do not speak human, so I do not know if she thinks I will be keeping her or no-_

Draco again flipped the page. Instead of protesting, Harry tried his best to read faster than Draco did.

_Diary,_

_Two more snakes found me in the field today. I told them that they could not be seen because the other children would scream and I would get in trouble, so they hid in the grasses. I told them about the rat in my room and they seemed very interested in it. It sounds absurd, but I promise it was really happening. They understood everything I told them. I rather like the snakes. I asked their names and they told me. I was sure that snakes could not speak, but I heard them myself. Their names were Naga and Lamia. The names supposedly have importance, but I will have to research it later since-_

Draco turned the page again. Harry just sighed. Apparently, Draco could read at Hermione speeds.

_Diary,_

_Today I asked Naga and Lamia to be my companions. They agreed! I have snuck them into my room and they are hiding in my cupboard. I have friends, now. Snakes are much better than humans anyway. Maybe I was supposed to be a snake._

_Madam Reese forced me to eat rotten stew. She said that only good children get good food. I was sick all over the floor and she made me clean it all up. I would rather never eat again than eat that stew. It was absolutely horrid. The children are whispering that our house is going to get an important visitor in a week. I hope the visitor is a big, mean guy who is going to get rid of Madam Reese. I loathe Madam Reese. I hope she finds a huge spider in her hair that eats her! I hope her clothes catch on fire while she is cooking and-_

The page turned and Harry scoffed. He was tired of not getting to finish each page. He ripped the book from Draco's hands and flipped back to the last page.

_I hope her clothes catch fire while she is cooking and she has burns all over her. I hope she dies! I loathe Madam Reese. I loathe, loathe, loathe her. She is a terrible person. I know she tells all the adults who come in not to adopt me. She wants me to stay here forever so she can make me eat rotten stew and make me do everyone else's chores! I loathe her._

Harry flipped to the next page and Draco, rolling his eyes, took to peering over his shoulder.

_Diary,_

_This morning, while Madam Reese was cooking breakfast, she caught on fire. Madam Wool had to call the emergency number. A bunch of men ran in and had to use a bunch of water buckets to put her out because the water in their hose disappeared. They rushed her to the hospital. Do you think it was my fault, Diary? I wrote that down last night. Was it my curse? I did not really want her to burn, I was just angry. Maybe I should run away and live with a bunch of snakes. I could eat rabbits and things that snakes eat. Then I would never get in trouble again._

_Naga and Lamia have eaten the rat in my room, and they want another one. I know there are lots of rats in Thomas's room down the hall, because he always is hiding sweets. How do I get them to the rats without getting them caught?_

As Harry was about to flip to the next page, Draco sighed.

"These have nothing important in them at all." He reached over Harry and flipped forward a few pages.

"Draco, all of them are important! We're learning about Tom Riddle! These are the things that made him the way he is." Though Harry tried to flip back, Draco was holding the pages down.

"If we read every single one, it will take _so much longer_."

Harry held his protest in, clenching a fist. He decided to read the page Draco had flipped to instead of punching him in the face. He was clearly still angry with him.

_Diary,_

_While Naga and Lamia were sneaking Nagini into Thomas's room, Madam Wool caught them. I tried to stop her from stepping on them and begged her to let me take them outside, but she would not listen to me. She tried to step on them, but they were dodging her steps easily. I thought they would survive, but she got the dictionary and dropped it on them. I tried to save them but Madam Peddy was holding my arm so tightly. She killed my friends, Diary. You are my only friend now._

_After Madam Wool picked up the dictionary off the floor, she had me clean up the mess. They were so flat, and there was snake blood everywhere. I tried not to cry, but when I picked up Naga all her guts fell out. Madam Peddy let me bury their bodies in the field. I could not find Nagini's skin; I think because she was so little she just turned to guts, but I made sure that I included her in the nice things I said about them all. I used a flat-ish rock to mark the grave. I miss them. They were such good company. Now I am stuck with rotten children and terrible Madams._

Harry pushed Draco's hand off the pages and closed the book. "Let's figure out how to get out of here. I'm sure it's almost dinnertime."

Draco nodded. They were both rather taken aback by the grief of child Tom, and decided a break from the books was probably best. Draco had the sudden urge to be sick as he realized he was empathizing with a younger version of the Dark Lord.

Harry pointed his wand at the books and shrunk them to put in his pocket. He decided to leave the stack of papers. He turned to Draco and sighed. "Now. How do we get out?"

"Well," Draco pushed out the door to the hidden room and walked into the larger room, Harry following behind him, "Is there an unlocking spell?"

Harry glanced around the room. The only things that hinted at the room being magical were the potions on the wall. Everything else was rather muggle-looking. He went to the chair stacked with books and looked through the titles: _The Brothers Grimm, 1984, The Canterbury Tales, A Tale of Two Cities, Magical Portraits: Advanced Fifth Edition_. He lifted the books to get to the one on the bottom and carefully pulled it out of the stack. This must be the book Tom was looking for. Harry pondered, for just a moment, why a man who had seemed to hate everything muggle would have so many classic muggle books in his possession, and hidden away, nonetheless. As far as Harry could tell, this was Tom's collection of muggle things. Maybe this was his muggle room, then.

Harry stared at the door a bit more. There was no lock, so there couldn't be a key. _How does a muggle unlock a door?_ Harry thought. Tom had a hidden room opened by a lever. Maybe there were other sorts of muggle tricks for doors. Harry thought back to the few movies he had seen back in his childhood. One of Dudley's favorites, though he would never admit it, a really old version of _Alibaba and the Fourty Theives_. Though Harry had never watched it himself, he could remember the phrase Dudley would go about screaming to get his parents to open the doors for him.

"Open sesame," Harry said.

Draco gave him a strange look, but quickly stared wide-eyed at the door as it clicked and opened slightly. "What kind of magic was _that_?"

"Honestly, no idea." Harry was quickly making his way to the door and through it to check how low the sun was outside. "Well, it's not quite dinnertime, yet. That's good. We weren't in there as long as I thought."

Draco nodded as he exited. "It felt like an eternity in there." He took in a deep breath and let it out with a smile. "I never thought I'd say I'd be happy to leave a potions room, or a library for that matter, but," he looked to Harry, "I'm going home."

"Okay. Uh," Harry scratched at the side of his head, "We're not going to ever speak of what happened in there, right?"

Draco pulled out wand. "Never." In seconds, there was a crack, and he was gone.

Harry pulled out his own wand and apparated back to his office. He looked up to the clock on the wall (a muggle one that he had put in himself), and saw that they had only been gone an hour. So what did he do now? He looked to the book in his hands. He could take it to Tom. He remembered the books in his pocket. Maybe he could read more about Tom's life.

Harry began making his way down to his room, many thoughts running through his mind about the day so far. It had been a very eventful day, from start to present, and he was trying to see how exactly he felt about it when loud whispers caught his attention.

"…huge fire…burned everything down…"

"…how in…the aurors…"

Harry looked to the walls and saw that all the magical portraits were whispering amongst themselves in a frenzy. Normally, anyone could tune out their conversations, but something had them all panicked. It worried him.

"What's going on?" he asked one.

A finely dressed man with a great poof in his hair replied, "There's been a huge fire in muggle London. The muggle fire fighters couldn't put it out, and the aurors never arrived. London is a huge, burnt mess. The Pime Minister is outraged with the Minister of Magic."

Harry's brows furrowed. "The aurors never showed? No one ever went to help?"

Another portrait of a female with very curly blonde hair spoke up. "Well, a few of the witches and wizards around London finally put it out, but the Ministry had to come in and use the Memory Charm on loads of muggles."

Harry's heart was racing. He nodded and began fast walking towards his room. He pulled out his wand and sent a patronus to Padma. She replied within moments.

"Neville and I have been looking into it. Apparently the whole Auror Department has gone missing. The Ministry was not even aware of the fire until their registries noted all the occurrences of muggles witnessing magic. So far, the Minister has no means of going to search for the Aurors, but we're rounding up as many professors and good wizards as we can to help search."

Harry sent back a message, saying he would like to help, if he could, and then another to Hermione asking if she knew the news. Harry felt the panic inside his stomach, ice cold. Those were his friends. He had met their families, and knew the stories of their lives. He had fought alongside them for many years, and they were all missing. How?

Hermione's patronus was suddenly before him. "I heard early this morning. Ron never came home last night, and I tried everything I know to contact him, but it's like he's fallen off the planet, Harry. I don't know what to do." Her voice sounded frightened and desperate. "The Ministry is acting like nothing happened! They aren't even alarmed! I talked to Ginny, but she said it was fine. Harry, it's not fine! I've joined the group that Padma set up, but so far we haven't a clue as to where to begin."

Harry sent her one back, assuring her that he would help them fine Ron. He began to run, full speed to his room. He threw open the door and chunked the book on the bed before running back out and using his wand to send his patronus to all his students with the message, "Training canceled for tonight; report to my office for instructions on your overnight assignment." He quickly summoned a piece of parchment and quill to write down their homework and sent the paper off to pin itself to his office door. Harry went as quickly as he could to Padma's office. By the time he arrived, he was pale-faced and out of breath.

"Harry!" Hermione ran into his arms, squeezing him tightly and sobbing.

Harry nodded and hugged her, tears stinging his own eyes. "We'll find them, I promise."

* * *

Tom hadn't been too confused upon seeing Harry run into the room, drop a book on the bed, and leave. He knew a reaction of this nature would be coming, though he honestly hadn't expected Harry to have left the book with him. Maybe the great Harry Potter was dumber than he seemed.

With a wicked smile, Tom walked from his silver frame to his black one.

"Ah! Mon Patron! I am so 'appy to see yoo once moore." The man in the black hood removed his silver mask to reveal his joyous face to his master.

"Thomas, I have it." Tom seemed to sing. "It is sitting on his bed. Like a present."

Thomas exclaimed, "Magnifique! I vill 'ave someone fetch eet immediately, My Lord."

"Excellent. I shall be awaiting, then." Tom stepped back into his other frame, smile fading, acting as if nothing had just happened, as he had for so long. It was refreshing to be called "Lord" again. It reminded him of the times when he was great. He was great, and he would be great once more.


	17. Death Eaters' March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a death of a (very) minor character in this chapter.

The sun was lazy in the sky, having been on a long shift somewhere else. As he rose over the horizon and onto the castle that was Hogwarts, his light was more pink and orange than normal, dazzling the darkened sky with beautiful colors. The clouds came by, offering the sun a nap for all his hard work, and the sun accepted, resting his face in their comfy embrace. The pink and oranges of the sky disappeared and a hazy grey overtook it as the sun rested its beams at last.

Gemini nearly overslept that morning, and rushed to get ready and head to breakfast. He had spent the night wondering with a saddened heart why training had been canceled. A couple of the older Ravenclaws had been saying that there was a huge fire in London, but that didn't explain why nearly all their professors had missed dinner yesterday, or why flying lessons had been postponed, or why animagus training had been canceled. He had read the note, which told him to report to the Herbology classroom and put the leaf of a mandrake in his mouth. He had found a couple of the seventh year students there with Sandel, who was unlocking the door for them. Apparently, none of the professors had prepared for it at all. Gemini tongued the mandrake leaf in his mouth as worried thoughts ran across his mind.

As he went to breakfast, he noticed that all of the professors, except Sandel, Professor Nott, Professor Davies, and Professor Admire, were gone. He quietly sat at the end of the Ravenclaw table, and began to eat his toast when Headmistress Patil appeared in a big puff of smoke.

"Students! Attention!"

The chatter that had been occurring over the four tables suddenly quieted.

"Due to emergency circumstances, all classes are canceled until further notice. As a safety precaution, no one is to leave the building; no one is to go exploring about the castle. I ask that you all remain in your Houses, if at all possible. All your meals will be sent to your rooms by House elves. Effective immediately, Hogwarts is on lock-down. Prefects, escort members to their houses. We are enacting Code Viridi." And with that, she was gone.

There was a moment of silence before the chatter started back up, twice as loud, and people began moving this way and that, led one way or another to their houses by Prefects with panicked expressions and wands at the ready. Gemini made his way over to a Ravenclaw prefect and asked as loud as he could, "What is Code Viridi?"

The Prefect nearly jumped out of his skin upon seeing Gemini's eyes change to yellow. "Viridi is Latin for green," he said a bit too fast. "Code green means someone set off the Hogwarts alarms. We're in a lock-down because someone bad got into Hogwarts. Come on, move along, we've got to get to our houses." He talked while he pushed Gemini along. "Professor Davies is gonna patrol outside of Ravenclaw Tower, Professor Nott outside of the dungeons, Professor Admire outside of Hufflepuff, and Sandel outside of Gryffindor. The rest of the Ravenclaw professors are trying to figure out where the alarm was set off. The other professors are currently looking for the aurors, who went missing yesterday. The Ministry of Magic is denying anything happened, but London was set on fire last night. The muggles couldn't put it out, so it must have been a magical fire. Some random witches and wizards around London had to put it out, and the Ministry had to Obliviate all the muggles who saw. The ones who put it out are all in custody, currently, for performing magic in front of muggles. Normally, they'd almost immediately get a trial, but for some reason the trial has been post-poned to next week and they are holding them all in Azkaban." The prefect shook his head, eyes wide. "Something terrible is going on in the Ministry, and it's made its way to Hogwarts."

Gemini pulled himself from the grasp of the Prefect and began to run towards the group of Gryffindor students. Though the Prefect reached out his hand to grab Gemini's robes, the Prefect kept moving along, pushing other students to Ravenclaw Tower.

"Albus!" Gemini shouted into the crowd of Gryffindor students. He hadn't seen him since they parted yesterday after reaching his class, but he knew if anyone wanted to know what was going on, it was the Potter children. Especially since their father was involved.

Albus faintly heard his name, and began scanning the crowd for whoever had called it. The crowd was so big, it seemed to want to swallow Lily, whose shoulders he was holding onto. He couldn't help but feel that James was lucky he never woke early enough to head to breakfast.

"Albus!"

Albus turned to see bright yellow eyes between people and reached out a hand to pull Gemini into the crowd. Gemini, though he stepped on a few people's toes, made it to them without getting trampled.

"Gemini!" Lily said suddenly. "I'm so sorry-"

"No time for that," Gemini cut her off. "I know what's happening. One of the Prefects told me."

Albus nodded but held up one finger. "Wait until we get to the Common Room. I think Rose and Hugo will want to hear."

Gemini nodded and followed the crowd to Gryffindor Tower. Somehow, all the students squished the mob through the magical portrait of the Fat Lady and through the Common Room. Albus, Lily, and Gemini waited on the edges of the Common Room until they saw Rose and Hugo slip through the doorway.

"Rose! Hugo!" Lily shouted, waving her hands at them.

They managed to make their way to them, a slew of questions leaving their mouths at the same time.

Albus led them all into the thinning crowd and high up the stairs to James's room. He thought maybe one of them would have gone to breakfast, but Albus had to bang on the door repeatedly to wake them all up. After a moment, a sleepy James opened the door in his sleeping clothes.

"What? Am I missing class?"

They all rushed in, finding his roommates all to be waking up as well. They sat on the floor and James closed the door behind them, not awake enough to be confused.

"Alright, Gemini," Albus said, "Tell us what's happening."

Gemini nodded, recounting everything the Prefect had told him. Everyone, even James and his roommates, listened intently. When Gemini finished, the room was quiet. They could hear the commotion that was happening down the hallway. Suddenly, a Gryffindor prefect came into the room.

"Oh!" He said with a sigh of relief. He stuck his head out the door to yell, "All the Potters and Weasleys are in here. And…" he stuck his head back in to point at Gemini. "Who are you?"

"Gemini. I'm a Ravenclaw."

The prefect sighed. "And a Ravenclaw, too! Tell Davies Gemini is in here!" They could hear some stuff being yelled back, but couldn't quite understand it. "No, too risky. We're on lock-down. Just let him know he's safe." The prefect counted heads and nodded. He stepped out of the room, calling out, "All accounted for," before closing the door behind him.

Gemini's hair was fading from mousy brown to yellow, his panic setting in. In their own panicked minds, no one seemed to notice.

"The aurors are missing?" Rose asked, quietly. She and Hugo exchanged a look of fear.

"Hey," James squatted down between them. "It's alright. I'm sure your mom and my mom and dad are doing their best to find him. With all of them looking, and the Headmistress, and all the other professors, the aurors are as good as found."

"Do you think Umbridge has anything to do with this?" Albus was deep in thoughts, trying to piece things together. "She was there last time the Ministry was pretending nothing bad was happening."

"Oh, you don't think the Ministry is evil again, do you?" Lily's distress was all over her face.

They all heard a sudden, loud commotion in the hallway. There were a few screams, and then nothingness. Thuds were heading up the stairs.

James was the first to react, grabbing the invisibility cloak from underneath his bed. He whispered loud enough for the room to hear, "Everyone in my trunk."

He opened his extended trunk and everyone quickly got inside. James got in too, spreading the invisibility cloak over them and shutting the lid.

They could hear the door to their room open with a slow creak. Footsteps clunked against the floor, in a rhythm, and then in a jumbled mess as more joined them. They heard deep whispers but could only understand a few words.

"…kids…bed…"

"…gone…empty…"

"…again…thorough…"

The footsteps traveled all about the room, searching. James had a big lump in his throat. He knew who they were looking for. He knew who these people were.

No one in the trunk dared move as the footsteps came close to them. There was some shuffling, and more whispering.

"…extension charm on it…in here?"

James knew the men caught them, but he didn't have his wand with him. It was on his bedside table. If only he'd gotten ready. If only he'd been wearing his uniform, he could have had it with him. He could protect them all better. He tapped his roommate, Tyler, with a quiet finger and mouthed "Wand." Tyler shook his head. He was about to tap one of his other roommates when the trunk opened.

"I don't see them." A large, rather pug-looking man with black hooded robes stood over them, looking down into the trunk that appeared empty.

The other one, much taller and thinner in his black robes, scoffed and pointed his wand at the trunk, muttering, "Idiot." A spell flew over them, pushing the cloak off.

"Found them!" The pug-man said.

As he went to grab them, a sudden burst of magic sent him flying back into the wall across the room. Gemini got out of the trunk, eyes firey red and hair like a raven. He was trembling, but still stood between the trunk and the Death Eaters.

"I don't know what you want, but you can't have them!"

The thin Death Eater didn't bother looking back to his partner, instead smirking and pointing his wand at Gemini.

" _ **Crucio**_."

Gemini stared at the red light his wand emitted as it began fading into the air before him as the whirlwinds began again. He quickly closed the trunk behind him, and let his magic pour out.

"I said, _You. Can't. Have. My. Friends."_

The wind surged out at the thin Death Eater, seeming to slap him across the face. He fell to the floor and was beginning to slide across towards his partner. The thin Death Eater had confused eyes, wide with panic, and his sallow face contorted into one of distress. In moments, the windows above them opened, and both Death Eaters were mercilessly thrown out of it.

Gemini stepped into the hallway, winds following him. He only saw the prefect that had been in their room earlier. He was on the ground, pale, wide-eyed, not breathing.

Professor Davies and Sandel ran up the stairs in a rush. Sandel had managed to send a call for help before the Death Eaters had hit him with the Cruciatous Curse. Professor Davies had shown up as soon as he could, but it seemed to be too late. They both watched as Gemini's eyes turned navy blue and his hair pure white as he fell beside the dead prefect. A breeze hit their faces, but quickly died out.

Roger left Sandel to tend to Gemini and ran into the room that appeared to have been broken into. "Is everyone alright?" into the seemingly empty room.

As the students popped out from inside the trunk, Roger breathed in relief.

"We're fine, Professor," James said, glancing about. "Where's Gemini?"

Lily ran to the window, looking out to the ground below. There was no one there.

"He's in the hall." Roger replied, confused. "But stay here. We're taking care of the situation. What happened?"

"Gemini came with us to tell us what was happening," Albus began.

"We heard the Death Eaters in the hallway," Rose continued.

"James hid us in his trunk," said Shawn.

"Under this invisi-thing," added Tyler.

"But they found us so Gemini got out," said Hugo.

The children all began talking at once, describing what they heard. Roger couldn't make heads or tails of any of it.

"Alright, calm down. _One_ of you, tell me."

Albus was the first to speak up. "I saw him do it yesterday. He gathered a bunch of magic and blew them out the window."

Lily spoke up, though she knew she probably wasn't supposed to. "But they aren't there anymore! They're gone!"

Roger nodded and quickly sent off a patronus to the others. He wasn't sure how the Death Eaters were getting in. Hogwarts had all sorts of wards on it.

Sandel pushed into the room a teary-eyed Gemini. "Keep this one away while I take him to the hospital wing."

Roger nodded. Yes, the student was dead, but they didn't want to announce it to everyone just yet. He gently put his hand on Gemini's shoulder. In a week, this student had shown more promise than many of his students had after years of schooling. How was it that one student could have so much power in his tiny body? Or even more astounding, so much _control_ over that power?

"Kids!"

They all looked out the window to see Harry Potter on a broom, hovering outside their window.

Lily smiled big, tears of relief welling in her face. "Dad!"

Harry quickly flew in the window and landed, holding his arms wide. Lily ran up and hugged him, followed by Albus. James stood awkwardly beside them, but Harry pulled him. They hugged for a long while before Harry let go and looked to Gemini, who was watching him.

"I believe I owe you a thank you."

Gemini looked down to the floor and nodded.

Harry addressed Roger with a nod and immediately began to update them all on what was happening.

"We've been patrolling and felt the disturbance in the wards here. We came as quickly as we could. We almost missed the two that fell out the window, but thankfully Neville managed to petrify them. They are currently in custody and headed to the Room of Requirement. We can't trust anything run by the Ministry any longer. As it turns out, all the prisoners in Azkaban charged with crimes related to the Dark Lord were released before the fire. We've gotten a foggy patronus from one of the aurors. They are probably being kept somewhere with no wands and some sort of magic-blocking enchantments. So far, it's proving untraceable. We're still working on it." He gave half a smile to his kids. "That's the update. I've got to go. Most of the professors are back, now. Hogwarts will be safer." Harry waved a quick goodbye and left the room, heading towards his own.

He left Gryffindor Tower and quickly found his room. As he was about to open the door, he heard voices inside. He carefully pressed his ear against the door to listen.

"It is almost complete, My Lord. You'll be back to your old self in no time."

"Ahh. It feels so good to be in charge once more," he heard Tom say.

Harry set down his broom, pulled out his wand, and quickly burst into the room. Immediately, he was surrounded by Death Eaters, wands all pointed at him. He lowered his wand to his side.

"Harry," Tom said with a dark chuckle, his portrait now propped up on Harry's bed. "So nice of you to join us. Do you still think the Dark Lord is truly gone?"

The Death Eater standing before Tom gave the potion in the cauldron before him one more mix before smiling and holding it up. "It is done, My Lord."

"Quickly, then. We've no time to waste." Tom stood taller, waiting.

The Death Eater splashed the portrait with the potion, and took a step back. As Tom breathed, he seemed to stretch the canvas outwards, more and more, until it finally ripped. Tom carefully held a hand outside the tear, feeling the fullness of life return to him. He ripped the canvas completely in two as he stepped out, filling his lungs with fresh air. He ran a hand through his hair and along his face, enjoying the sensation of touch once more. With a wicked smile growing on his face, he held out his hand to his Death Eater. The Death Eater pulled a wand out of his robes and handed it to Tom, who took it gracefully and turned it in his hands.

"Oh, wand. I have missed you so." With a truly evil smile, he pointed it at Harry. The Death Eaters surrounding him parted a bit. "It was part of the plan all along, Potter. All of it, from you losing your job to you getting the book for me." At Harry's shock, he chuckled. "What? You thought all of it was just a terrible situation? You think the public would just let their Savior, Harry Potter, walk away from the job he was best at?" Tom clicked his tongue and walked closer to Harry. "It took a lot of convincing that you needed to be let go as Head Auror. But they all came around eventually." Tom put his wand right up to Harry's throat and got close enough to whisper, "I will destroy you this time." Tom tensed his arm and said, " _Crucio_."

Seconds passed, but Harry felt no pain. In fact, he was sure that nothing at all had happened. Tom raised an eyebrow but tried again. " _Crucio_!" But still, nothing happened. He turned to glare at the Death Eater who had splashed the potion on him. "What is this?"

The Death Eater, in a panic, flipped through the book to the page the potion instructions had been on. He was reading with speed, flipping a page, and then another. After a moment, he read aloud. " _Many witches and wizards who miss their family members have attempted this potion have discovered that, while it does bring the subject of the portrait to life once more, it does place them into a new body. This new body will not have any of the things the old body had, including scars, birthmarks, defects, or magical abilities._ " The Death Eater looked up wide-eyed. "My Lord…"

"That _must_ be the wrong one." Tom narrowed his eyes, as if imagining terrible deaths for this mistake of a being. "Call Thomas."

The Death Eater nodded and pulled up his sleeve. He pressed his wand to his Dark Mark and shut his eyes to bear through the pain. In moments, a man apparated into the room through the portrait hole, familiar to Harry.

"You," Harry said to the man who had painted the portrait of Tom Riddle in the first place.

Thomas smiled. "Oui, it eez me. What ees ze problem?"

The panicked Death Eater quickly whispered something and backed away. Thomas looked Tom up and down. "And ze rest of ze plan?"

The Death Eater replied, "Well. Going very well. Extremely well."

Thomas nodded. "Magnifique. Zen let us go."

"What?" Tom said with a confused look.

Thomas shrugged. "I am ze leader, Tom. It vas never yoo. _My_ Death Eaters needed un insigne! A symbol! A reason to fight. Merci, but I 'ave no need foor yoo anymoor." He gestured to the rest of the Death Eaters. "Keel Potter and let's go."

"What about my plan?" Tom yelled suddenly. "I created it. I ensured it was carried out. All that you have done is burn down London. I could have had _anyone_ do that."

Thomas stepped close to Tom, then. He looked down on him, slightly, as if sizing him up before slapping him across the face so hard, Tom fell backwards. Thomas smiled then, as if this were not a confrontation of two villains, but a fun fair. "Yoo 'ave no power anymoore, Tom. Yoo are just a muggle."

While the Death Eaters were preoccupied with the occurrence, Harry shouted, " _ **Expelliarmus**_!"

The wands of all the Death Eaters around him flew up into the air, creating a scene of chaos momentarily as they scattered about, trying to get them back. Harry grabbed Tom's hand and time seemed to slow. Though his wand was out of his hand, Thomas stared at Harry, smiling deeply with eyes wide. Before the creepy expression had begun to take its hold on Harry, he turned and disapperated with Tom Riddle in tow.


	18. Broken Man

 

Harry and Tom landed on the ground in front of Neville and the rest of the people Harry had managed to scrape together: Luna, Hermione, and Draco. Though the group was a bit shocked (save for Luna, who was never shocked), they understood that if Harry had brought Tom Riddle, something had definitely changed in their plans.

"Harry," Hermione said, concern filling her features, "what's going on? I thought he was a portrait." Though both Hermione and Harry had tried to get Ginny to help them, as well, she still seemed to think nothing was going on. Hermione's eyes were still red and puffy from the whole fiasco.

Harry stood, pulling Tom to his feet as well. "As it turns out, they…er…made him a new body? He doesn't have any magic, now."

Tom's brown eyes scanned over the adults before him, some sickly feeling in his stomach. There was a time when these adults were just children, going to Hogwarts. Harry and his friends had once tried to fight him and his Death Eaters, and almost lost before the Order of the Phoenix arrived. Tom had once thought of how silly it had been for children to try and take him on. Now, he had no magic and had to rely on these people? He wondered how much their power had grown. He wished his own power had not vanished.

"Oh. Alright." Neville lowered his wand. "What do we do with him now?"

"Kill him, of course," replied Draco. "How do we know he's not still a part of the plot? Maybe they intend to return his magic to him."

Harry shook his head. "No, they were probably going to kill him. I mean, the new leader hit him. I think it's safe to say he's not a part of the plan anymore."

Tom sighed. His mind felt like a blazing inferno and his chest like an empty void. He had lost everything he once held dear: his magic, his power, his influence. Was this what it was like to lose something one loved? Tom felt grief, something he had not felt in such a long, long time.

"No. They intend to continue the plan without me." Tom took in a shaky breath. Back there, on the ground before Thomas, someone he had known since his days at the orphanage, he had felt fear. He was frightened to lose his life again. He was powerless.

Luna spoke up, her voice as dreamy and calm as ever. "What is the plan?"

Tom stared at the ground, sorry for himself. He was now the very thing he once hated. But surely, he couldn't hate himself. At least, not completely. "The plan was to overtake the Ministry, attack the muggle world, make the wizards defenseless, lure in Harry Potter, kill him, and take over the Wizarding World. And eventually, the muggle word, too."

Harry Potter nodded. "Sounds like last time."

"Generally, yes," Tom replied, not much interest to his voice. It felt so odd to be this human again. It had been so long since he had felt emotions as deeply as he was now. Grief. Rejection. Remorse.

"So what do we do now?" asked Neville.

Harry pulled out his wand. "We find the aurors." He looked to Tom. "Where are they?"

Tom pressed his lips together in a thin line before saying, "I do not know."

Hermione huffed. "What do you mean you don't know?" She stepped towards him, intent on yelling in his face, but Harry held her back. "You're their leader? Don't you know _all about_ what they're doing? Didn't you _tell them_ to do it all? How can you not _know-_ " her voice cracked. Hermione stood a moment, quiet, trying to be strong, before she fell into tears.

Harry softly calmed her. "It's alright. We'll find him, okay? Just because Tom can't tell us doesn't mean we'll stop looking."

Seeing a member of the Golden Trio crying made Tom curious, and rather confused. He had thought the people on the good side were supposed to be strong, brave, and keep fighting in the face of grief. He glanced around and could see the tiredness in their faces, the faces of people who had seen war once already. He thought to himself about his own strength. There was a point in his life when he had shed tears, but only a few times in his life. It was such a vulnerable thing.

Tom glanced about the room rather absent-mindedly, deep in his own thoughts. He hardly noticed the whirling knick-knacks and the little toys about the whole place. He spotted a chair and made his way to it, plopping down into it without much grace.

"It's been a rough night," Harry said, noticing the room's hope diminishing. "We should get some rest. I'll patrol first."

Luna, Neville, and Draco nodded, looking about the floor for a portion that seemed comfy. Hermione pulled out of Harry's hug to ask, "What about the Death Eaters in the castle?"

Harry gave her a soft, somber smile. "Already taken care of it. I sent a patronus to Roger while I was cornered in my room with the Death Eaters. Told him to wait for the commotion to attack, so he should have burst in with a bunch of the other professors and caught them all wandless." Harry sent out another patronus. "I suppose I should ask how it went."

Seconds later, a ghostly fox appeared with a message. "We caught most of them. Only the leader managed to get away. They are all petrified, magically bound, and being kept in the Room of Requirement."

Though Harry was about to send him another message that Tom was safe, he thought better of it. The others didn't know about Tom. He wasn't sure they would understand as well as the people around him. They trusted him (well, probably with the exception of Draco) enough to know that he wouldn't bring Tom along if he posed a threat. Harry turned to Hermione.

"See? All taken care of. " Harry patted her shoulder. "Get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, but still didn't move. "Rose and Hugo will be alright, won't they?"

Harry smiled. "Last I saw, they were in James's room with Lily and Albus. I think they'll be just fine."

She nodded again and finally decided to rest, crossing the room to an empty bit of floor. She suddenly exclaimed, "Oh! I nearly forgot." She opened her small purse and looked around at the others. "I have an extended tent."

She pulled out the shrunken tent and placed it on the floor. With a quick spell, it grew slightly into what appeared to be child-size. She sighed.

"Unfortunately, the office isn't big enough for it to grow much further, but it has enough room for the whole Weasley family, so everyone should be more than comfy once inside."

Neville and Luna smiled and crawled inside, thanking her for the tent. Draco, unsure if the invitation was available for him as well, asked, "Is it alright if I stay in the tent as well?"

Hermione gave a small smile. "Of course. Anyone willing to help us is more than welcome to a cozy bed."

Draco gave a curt nod and a hint of a smile before attempting to crawl inside without looking like a child, though not really being successful.

Hermione stood before the entrance, looking over Tom who seemed to be staring into the distance. Though she once thought he was a monster, the man she saw couldn't possibly be such. He had such thin, defeated shoulders, making him seem so small in the chair he sat in. Maybe back then, as he had been before, he was a monster. Whatever he was now was clearly a human-being. She could tell from the look in his eyes. It was the look she often found herself seeing in the mirror when Ron was out on a dangerous mission, or when her parents had passed away. She had seen it in Ginny's eyes after the divorce, and in Harry's eyes after he'd been fired. It was the feeling of being on the verge of something terrible, and seemingly impassable; it was the grief of losing something dear and knowing there was nothing to be done about it. It was a very human emotion.

"Tom," she said quietly. The name sounded weird in her voice, and felt weird coming from her lips. He suddenly looked to her. "You're welcome to the tent, as well, if you'd like to sleep." Tom gave a blank nod, but began staring into nothingness again. Hermione took a nice, slow breath, relaxing herself before crawling into the tent.

Harry just stood, watching Hermione's shadow fade into the tent. The light inside it suddenly clicked off, and everything was dark aside from the headmistress's desk, lit by a small lamp. Harry began to watch Tom as he stared into the air. Harry couldn't imagine what he was feeling, losing his magic. Why had Harry saved him? He could have just as easily left him behind. Harry shook his head at himself. No, he was a decent person. He wouldn't let anyone die like that, not even Tom.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry cast a silencing charm around the tent. He let the others rest, but wanted to talk to Tom.

"Tom."

After a long moment, Tom seemed to notice his name had been called.

Harry sighed. "Tom, I want to show you something." He pulled the shrunken books out of his pocket and placed them on the desk before Tom, enlarging them to their original size.

Tom was looking at the books, but didn't seem to comprehend it at first. Once he did, his sad eyes fell into anger.

"How did you find those?"

"I was snooping around," Harry joked lightly, "how else?" He picked up the first one. "Draco and I only read the first few pages of the first one." He turned to the pages that had been skipped over. "I'm sorry about your snakes."

Tom was clearly at a loss for words, and couldn't decide whether or not to be angry. His face smoothed out to a tired expression. Emotions were difficult, for him. "Don't go about letting everyone know I cried over the death of two snakes."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Two? I thought you said there was three."

Tom shook his head. "You must not have read much after that. The next day I found Nagini. Turns out she managed to hide and escape being crushed. She found me and I had her until the day I last died."

Harry suddenly felt a pang of guilt, though he knew he shouldn't. The snake was a horcrux. They needed to kill Voldemort. But now, Harry was finding the human pieces to the monster he once knew. "Nagini was a garden snake?"

With a scoff, Tom replied, "Heavens _no._ Lamia and Naga had told me then that she was a rare breed they found abandoned in a stream. I later found out she was half basilisk, but she was the tiniest thing for a long while. It was no wonder her snake parents left her." Tom's face grew stern, perhaps coaxing his feelings back into the depths they crawled from. "She was the runt."

Harry frowned. "And, she was your familiar?"

Tom nodded. "Our life together at the…house was rather…complex at times. We bonded magically before either of us were aware we possessed magical abilities."

Harry glanced back down at the book, flipping to the page after he had last read.

_Diary,_

_I found Nagini hissing in my ear this morning. I thought it was a dream, but she was really there when I opened my eyes. I let her curl on my chest since she was so cold from hiding in the cupboard of Thomas's room-_

Harry suddenly glanced up. "Thomas?" That had been the name Tom had called the Death Eater who had slapped him.

Tom nodded again. "He was several years younger than I was. The ladies at the house always liked to spoil him with sweets. His parents came to visit from time to time. They wanted to keep him, but they could not afford him. They saved up as much money as they could, and bought him back a couple summers after I found out I was a wizard. He came back the summer before my seventh year. His parents had died in a car crash. I saw the pain in his eyes. I offered him a place in my regime. He accepted, but did not play much of a part until a few days before the end of the war. I gave him a plan, told him to carry it out in the event that I died, whenever he thought the Wizarding World would least expect it." Tom sighed. "He did not disappoint."

Harry furrowed his brows and kept reading.

_I let her curl on my chest since she was so cold from hiding in the cupboard of Thomas's room all night. She said a rat tried to eat her, but she bit it and waited for it to die. She is apparently poisonous. I showed her the grave of her adopted parents, but I had to explain why humans buried their dead. It was difficult, but she drew the conclusion that we did it so the body would break down and return to the Earth. That is about the best answer I could give. We are both orphans now, Diary, but we have got each other._

_Nagini and I played a game she taught me in the field today. She would slither around in circles and I would try to follow her as fast as I could. Nagini is so fast, I became dizzy, but it was fun. Madam Wool thought I had an imaginary friend, but it is probably better that way. She apparently is not very fond of snakes._

_They hired a new Madam today. Her name is Madam Spleech. They did not tell us anything about Madam Reese, but a couple of the older kids are saying she must have died if they are replacing her. I felt bad about accidently killing her, but Nagini told me that the death of a predator was necessary to survive. I am not sure that is how it works in the human world, but it made me feel a bit better. Madam Reese deserved it. I will never again be fed rotten stew._

Harry leaned on one leg. "You were an interesting kid."

Tom gave Harry a slightly offended look. "What is that intended to mean?"

Harry shrugged. "You had a unique personality. I think I would have liked to be close with something as you were close to your…uh, Nagini."

Tom let his head fall onto the back of the chair, letting it slightly fall over the top. He thought for a moment, back to what Harry had said about his childhood. "You said you grew up in a cupboard?"

Harry almost laughed. "Sort of. I was dropped off at my aunt and uncle's house when I was a one. For a while, they let me sleep on an extra mattress they had that my uncle had broken. After my first incident of magic--I think I was three and I made my lollipop bigger than my cousin Dudley's--they put me in the cupboard under the stairs as a punishment. I slept there, played there, pretended I didn't exist there. The last one was my favorite past time."

"Hmm," Tom replied. "I, at least, had a real bed. Most of the time."

"After my first year at Hogwarts, they let me sleep in a real bed again. I guess they were worried that the letters Hogwarts sent to me being addressed to Cupboard Under the Stairs revealed they knew how they were treating me." Harry kneeled next to the desk, tired of standing. "Wait, most of the time?"

Tom nodded. "A popular punishment at the house was staying in a metal box. It was cold, and we were not allowed to have any possessions with us. Sleeping was impossible."

"The caretakers, or whatever, seem to love really obscure, cruel punishments."

Tom sighed. "Yes. It was their favorite way to keep away the boredom."

The silence grew between them. Harry used it to keep reading.

_Diary,_

_Today, Caroline was singing a terrible song, and when I asked her politely to stop, she sang it louder in my face. We got into an altercation--_ _I learned that word today--_ _and Madam Spleech pulled us apart. She had me copy from a new dictionary and then clean the toilets. She wanted me to use my toothbrush, but said I would not get a new one. I used George's instead. That is his punishment for calling me a freak all the time._

_Nagini asked me about human things all day today, and I tried to explain them all to her. Things that seem normal are very odd to snakes. I explained cameras and showed her the picture of my parents. She was confused as to why we would need a picture of anything. She thinks of everything as trying to survive, but I told her it was just something for fun. We are trying still to work on her understanding of fun._

Harry smiled. If he didn't know any better, he'd have said the entry he just read was cute. Well, at least the end of it was. He could imagine a tiny Tom Riddle trying to explain "fun" to his little snake friend. It sounded adorable. But Harry didn't want to say that out loud. That would be weird, right?

He decided to just keep reading.

_Diary,_

_Madam Peddy interrupted a big fight today. Apparently Thomas and Theodore were making fun of George, John, and William; they all began punching each other, of course. Why must I be surrounded by such Neanderthals? If there is no purpose to fight, why do it? They all have such incredibly weak minds._

_Nagini and I tried to run away today. She noticed my unhappiness and told me to find a new habitat. However, Madam Wool caught me before I could even get past the creek. I had to leave Nagini behind a while so she would not get caught. Madam Wool scolded me and told me to sit in the metal sleep box and I would not get breakfast in the morning. I have never had a liking for breakfast, anyhow. Nagini snuck back in through a window and found me in the box. She is currently coiled on my stomach. Her skin is very cold, but I rather enjoy it; I always get rather warm in the house. The metal box, on the other hand, is terribly hard and feels as if it could be frozen._

_I looked up the average lifespan of snakes, today: 9 years. I honestly have no idea what sort of snake Nagini is, but I do hope she lives longer than 9 years. I'd like to have her as long as possible. She tries to understand humans, unlike many other snakes. She is interested in how different our bodies are and how similar are lives can be. I am interested in those things, too._

Harry glanced back up at Tom, who had gone back to staring at the wall. There were so many things about his life that were similar to Harry's when looking from a distance, but up close were completely different. With a sigh, Harry closed the diary. He wanted to know so much more about Tom, but there were other things going on right now. There was London being a charred mess, the missing aurors, a corrupt Ministry, Death Eaters running amuck; where should he even begin?

The longer he stared at Tom, the more Harry wanted to read, the more he wanted to know. It was a long series of little stories that he had just begun to read, and he already knew the ending. What happened in the middle parts? How did a wizard go from an orphan with a pet snake to the ultimate dark wizard of all history? Harry wanted to know. For future reference.

He placed the diary on top of the others, stood, and walked around the desk to Tom. He softly placed a hand on Tom's shoulder, not sure if what he was about to offer would provide any help.

"Let's go to the library."

Tom hardly even reacted. "I have read all the books in Hogwarts at least twice over."

Harry smirked. "I didn't mean the Hogwarts library."

Harry pulled out his wand and they disapperated, arriving to walls like fresh blood, a silver ceiling, black velvet lined bookcases and a silver and black glass chandelier.

Tom's eyes widened at the beauty of it all. He was home.

* * *

 

Gemini couldn't bear to even close his eyes for more than a blink while the others around him snoozed happily. He had seen a corpse today. That person had been alive not seconds before those Death Eaters had arrived. What terrible people they were, killing an innocent boy who was in their way. They must not have any sort of conscience. Where was their guilt? Did they bear the heavy weight easily, or was it simply nonexistent? Gemini couldn't get the image of the prefect's unmoving face from his mind. He saw it over and over again, in detail.

Deep brown hair, like dark chocolate, askew from his fall; skin so pale it was almost grey; white lips and dull brown eyes; not a single twitch in his body.

_Corpse_ , his mind repeated. _Corpse. Dead body. Murdered. Corpse._ No matter what he tried to think about to get his mind off it, the thoughts followed him, seeming to shadow whatever happy thoughts he had.

_Death. Death. Death. Corpse._ Gemini could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He was lying down, trying to be quiet, but he felt like he had to move. The desire itched at his skin, aching to be released.

_Corpse. Dead. Pale. Not breathing._ He _could not_ take this anymore. His own mind was driving him mad and he felt trapped. Was there any escape?

_Corpse. Dead. Corpse._

_Death. Death. Death._

_MURDER._

Gemini sat up. He matched his surroundings: pitch black except for small lights that were bright in stark contrast to the darkness. While the sky had the moon and stars, Gemini had yellow eyes like a cat's, reflecting light. His body felt the heat of anxiety and the shiver of panic. It felt like the air was tightening around his neck, making it hard to breathe. He pulled at his shirt collar, but felt no relief. He picked up his robes, the crumpled pile which he had been using as a pillow, and pressed his face into it hard, frustrated and scared.

His next inhale brought the scent of lavender, sweet and delicate, to his nose. Slowly pulling it away, he wondered for a moment why, but quickly found his mind had filled in the answer.

_Potions class. I spilled lavender oil on myself because a Hufflepuff girl bumped into me._

Gemini frowned and shook his head, though he couldn't figure out why. The girl hadn't meant to bump into him. But, of course, it did mean he had to go back and measure the oil out again. While Professor Nott was not exactly intimidating, his attention to detail made his class a challenge. He had made sure every student measured out the oil, weighed it on their scale, and correct the amount with a dropper until it was precisely correct.

Of course, the girl had apologized profusely, and blushed a bit when his brown eyes went grey. She must have been embarrassed. She had seemed to run off pretty quickly afterwards. He heard her friends giggling a bit later.

Gemini pursed his lips, chewing on the mandrake leaf--which so comfortable in his mouth, now, it was as if it had molded itself to the roof of his mouth. Did that girl have a crush on him? That would make sense, right? The blushing, the giggling friends. Or maybe she just thought he was a freak, and that frightened her. Maybe her cheeks reddened because color-changing eyes were a part of bad magic…maybe she heard about what he had done that morning to that empty hallway…

_Death. Corpse. MURDER._

Serves her right, he supposed. He was obviously dangerous to be around. He couldn't control himself. He was a bad person, no matter how hard he tried to be good.

_Dead. Pale. NOT BREATHING_.

Even if she, or anyone for that matter, had a crush on him, he didn't care. He wouldn't ever like them back. He didn't like people like that. He barely liked people regularly. Maybe that was what made him bad.

_NOT BREATHING. MURDER. CORPSE._

Gemini shook his head. It felt uncontrollable and hot. He had to leave. He had to get out. He didn't care to where, but he needed to get out.

Carefully, he stood. He tried his best not to make much noise as he walked to the door, stepping over others that were sleeping on the floor. Once he reached the door, he put his ear to it.

"…'nother one of those Death Eaters, do you?"

"If that's so, it's an elaborate plot, then. They are making their moves all at once. Who knows what they're up to now…"

Gemini pulled his ear away and instead looked to the window. They were closed, now; he didn't know how loud it would be to open them, but he had to get out.

He carefully crossed the room once more, almost losing his balance right over James, who had let Lily sleep in his bed. He paused a moment, getting his balance back, then continued on. Once at the window, he easily pulled it open, only letting out a small squeak. He looked around, assuring that no one had woken up.

"…you hear that?" he heard from the door.

Gemini quickly climbed out the window and onto the roof, slipping to the side and closing the window behind him just as the door opened.

"I told you…in your head…" he barely heard muffled through the glass.

"…just wanted to be sure…wouldn't attack again."

The door shut, and Gemini couldn't help but look at the ground below, barely illuminated by the moon. It seemed as if he could fall forever and be swallowed into the dark depths. Gemini clung to the wall as his dark body and hair became pale and white. He most certainly did _not_ want to fall.

Gemini pushed on the window with the tips of his fingers, wanting very much to go back inside, but found that it did not move. He scooted just a bit closer to the window, so he could push with his hand, and found that the window still did not move.

_Death…_

Gemini felt the already present panic well up even higher, constricting his throat and making his stomach churn.

_Corpse…_

Gemini turned towards the window and pushed as much as he could without losing his balance. The window still did not move.

_Pale…_

His breaths became short and shallow. Tears prickled in his eyes.

_Not breathing…_

Gemini began to bang on the window, not bothering to hide his fear. He wanted everyone to wake up and see him, now. He didn't want to die.

_MURDER!_

Gemini's vision blurred and he couldn't see if anyone inside had moved. They were all sleeping. They wouldn't save him. He would fall. He would die.

His head was light and he felt the world began to spin around him. He leaned against the window, pressing his forehead to it and letting the cold sink into his skin. The slight breeze swayed around him, as if taunting him. He thought for a moment that maybe dying would not be so bad.

The cold of the window was suddenly gone and Gemini found himself falling into the room, landing harshly onto his robes. His arms, which had tried their best to catch him, now stung at the wrists and elbows.

A pale hand appeared from the dark, reaching out for his own. He grabbed it, though the movement hurt. He stood, finding wide, bright green eyes staring at him. As Gemini glanced around, he saw that Albus was the only one up. Had none of them heard him? Had the men outside the door not heard him?

"James's windows muffle outside noises," Albus whispered. "Shawn's been practicing the spell so he can try it on a professor as a prank."

Gemini nodded numbly. He could hardly feel his body; it all felt prickly and cold, except for the pain of his arms and the burning of his lungs.

Albus began walking to the door, stepping over the others quietly, but not silently. When Gemini did not move to follow him, he waved him over.

Gemini tried his hardest not to step on anyone, but his head felt so light and the world was still spinning, albeit not as much. He seemed to be succeeding.

As Albus reached the door, he cracked it open carefully, appearing to look for the people on the other side of the door that Gemini could not see.

"Mrs. Longbottom," Albus whispered as Gemini reached the door, "we need to go to the loo."

Another whisper rose up from behind the door, a man's voice. "Isn't there one in there?"

"Well, yes, but I think James or his roommates must have been planning to play a prank on one another. Gemini tried to use it, but he doesn't look so well, now."

As if proving his point, Albus opened the door more to reveal the pale, light-headed Gemini trying his best to breathe normally and not heavily.

Hannah Longbottom sighed. "Send Astoria up here. I'll take them."

Albus scrunched up his nose. "Do you have to escort us? We're not little kids."

The man raised his tone to a much louder whisper that was hardly a whisper at all. "No students are to leave their room unescorted. Especially you and your brother and sister." He eyed Albus rather sternly.

" _Uncle Bill_ , we'll be right back. It's not far."

"Albus," Hannah said softly, "it's dangerous. There are Death Eaters who are up to evil things. They've tried to take you once. Imagine what your father would say if he knew we let you leave alone."

Albus sighed and nodded. "Could we at least have Uncle Bill go with us?"

Hannah looked to Bill and he nodded. Albus stepped through the doorway and Gemini followed, finally seeing the two adults on the other side of the door. The woman looked pale in the barely lit hallway, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail with long bangs falling over the side of her rounded, soft face. The man also looked pale, but had a long, even paler scar on the left side of his rugged, aging face. His bright red hair was long and loose around his shoulders. Albus had called him uncle? They hardly seemed related at all. Then again, Lily's bright hair made more sense.

Bill led them out of Gryffindor Tower and into the hallways of Hogwarts. The sounds of their footsteps echoed against the walls, making them sound as if they were walking in boots. Maybe Bill was wearing boots. Gemini looked down to his own feet. He didn't have any shoes on, just socks. He was sure Albus had not gone to sleep with shoes on.

Gemini looked at Bill's feet, trying to figure out if he was wearing boots or not; it seemed to take the stress off his mind. He noticed that Bill had his wand in his hand, seeming to stick out much past his fingers. Was that normal? Maybe it was due to his height. He was rather tall and thin. Gemini's wand was not very long at all. Did that mean he would grow up but still be rather small? He hoped not.

In moments, they arrived at the bathroom, and he followed Albus inside. Bill waited at the entrance.

The lights turned on as they entered, not too bright to hurt their eyes a lot, but bright enough to see everything. Gemini walked into a stall out of habit, locking the door behind him. He stood in the stall a moment before his jumbled head realized he didn't need to go.

"Why are we here, Albus?" he asked, still in the stall.

"You wanted to get out of the room, didn't you?" he replied quietly. "You were stuck outside the window."

Gemini placed his head on the side of the stall. Something about the cold of the stall seemed to help clear Gemini's thoughts. "Yeah. I needed some air. It went horribly wrong." A question suddenly popped into his head. "If the windows muffle outside noises, how'd you know I was out there?"

"I couldn't sleep. I heard you get up, but then you went silent, and I looked up to see you stuck outside."

As his head began to grow accustomed to the temperature of the wall, Gemini felt like he needed more cold. He quickly removed his shirt and placed his back against the door to the stall, letting the lock click against itself from the added weight of his body. He smiled as a shiver went down his spine. He liked it.

"Lily told me about what happened Monday morning with Pavo," Albus said suddenly.

His smile quickly faded. Surely this was the end of their friendship. He'd never had a friend this long. "What did she say about it?"

"She said she felt bad. Rose and Hugo, too. They didn't mean to upset you. They just wanted to help." Albus's voice lowered to just barely a whisper. "We know it's bad to make fun of people, we just never think about how it affects the other person, especially if they were making fun of others first."

Gemini took in a deep breath. He didn't sound like he wanted to stop being his friend. In fact, he sounded sincere. Apologetic, even.

"Bullying in any form to anyone is a terrible thing." Gemini tried to pick his words carefully, but found himself more inclined to say what he felt, however the words came out. He wasn't sure which one would yield a better result. "It can tear a person down from the highest mountain or bury them deeper into the valley. The thing is, no one ever knows where everyone else is. They might act like they're on a mountain, but they aren't. How do I know if Pavo is on Mount Everest or if he's in the deepest pit of the sea?"

Albus was silent a moment. Gemini hoped he was thinking about what he said in a positive way.

"They told me you said his name meant 'Peacock,'" he said.

"Yeah. I was trying to find a common ground. Gemini and Pavo: they're constellations."

He heard Albus lightly drum on the porcelain sink with his fingers. The constant rhythm was rather soothing to Gemini.

"Anyway, they say that they're sorry."

Gemini gave a small smile. "I accept if they accept."

"Accept what?"

Gemini grabbed his shirt and opened the stall door. "An anti-bullying policy." He stepped out and smiled at Albus. "They don't have to police every bully, or anything, but I'd like for them to not be bullies themselves."

Albus gave a small nod. "Alright. I'll see what they say."

An awkward silence developed between them while Gemini stared at Albus. Of course, every conversation was rather awkward for Gemini. He'd learned to live with it.

"Do you accept?" he asked Albus after a while.

Albus smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

Gemini smiled back. "Good." He put his shirt back on, not bothering to button all the buttons. He watched in the mirrors as his now purple eyes turned to a light brown, like sand on the beach. He'd never seen that color before. "I'm rather tired now."

"Me too."

Together, they walked out the door to Bill. Gemini couldn't help but smile the whole way back, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he'd have some friends after all.


	19. Chapter 19: Pieces and Scars

Harry couldn't help but sigh as the bright morning sun shone on his eyes that had been so adjusted to the dark. Luna had practically had to shake him awake from his nap in the tent, and Hermione had been holding the flaps open to the tiny entrance of the tent the whole time, hoping the sunbeams would reach his eyes. He attempted to rub at his eyes, finding them blocked by his glasses. He couldn't remember falling asleep last night at all. A groggy feeling was settling in, now, telling his body he had not slept nearly enough; a feeling he was very accustomed to.

Luna's calm, happy expression was the first thing his eyes saw after blinking away the sleep. "Morning, Harry," she said dreamily, "Do you know where Tom is?"

Harry sat up quickly, though he wasn't sure why. "Tom? Oh, he's at his house."

"His house?" Hermione questioned.

Harry nodded, stretching his arms high above his head and yawning. "Yeah. I took him to his house."

"I take it Harry hasn't exactly shared our little venture, then?" Draco's voice floated into the conversation from outside the tent.

"When would I have shared it?" Harry replied. "It was two days ago."

Draco smirked. "I assumed all the members of the trio were always aware of what the others were-"

"One of you, please explain what happened. Honestly," Hermione interrupted, rolling her eyes. "We don't have time for your banter."

Draco made an offended sound while Harry began to explain. As he talked, Draco, Luna, and Hermione all came into the tent to listen.

"Well, Tom asked me to find him a book in his private residence when he was still in portrait form. I guess this was the place he actually lived. He asked me to use Malfoy to get inside, I assume because there were wards on it that prevented just anyone from getting in. We both got in, adjusted the wards so we could get in easier. I figured since Tom was muggle now, there would be no harm in it. I was there with him a while, but left sometime after he fell asleep."

Hermione nodded, but still seemed not entirely filled in. "What book did he want you to get?"

Harry opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. This is where he had some explaining to do. He wasn't even sure he could. "Well…"

"A book to remove Tom from his portrait and into a new body," Draco cut in.

"To be fair," Harry added, "he didn't tell me there was a spell like that in it."

"But he didn't exactly there wasn't a spell like that in there, did he?" Draco scoffed. "You knew he was up to something, but you went to get the book, anyway."

Harry struggled to form a reply, thinking of beginning with "No, but" or maybe "Not really," but finally settled on, "Well, yes."

Hermione's expression fell into shock. "Harry-"

"I know!" He yelled, falling back onto the floor. "I know," he repeated much quieter. "I helped the Death Eaters the whole way. I didn't know it was bigger than just Tom. Even if it was just Tom, I can't explain why I still did it. I knew he would want to become human again, but I thought…maybe I'd have a say in it. I thought maybe he'd feel differently about the world."

Draco began laughing. "You thought he'd feel _differently_? You honestly thought _Voldemort_ , of all people-"

Harry sat up once more. "He's not Voldemort anymore!" Harry felt the anger rising inside him, but he couldn't figure out why he felt it. "Maybe he thought he would be, but he never got the chance."

Draco stuck his head through the flaps to look at Harry as he yelled back, "That had nothing to do with you! If the spell hadn't turned him muggle, he would have killed as many people as he wanted!"

"How do you know? Have you ever stopped for a moment to think that maybe he wasn't a monster before he made his first horcrux?" Harry wasn't quite sure where the words he were saying were coming from, but he sure as hell wasn't about to stop them from coming out. "He split his soul, but now he's whole. He is a normal person."

Draco crawled into the tent and stood in front of Harry, staring down at him with a surprising amount of rage. "You are so full of delusions! He is the same as he was before! He has always been that way, and he always will be!"

"How can you know if you don't give him a chance?" Harry wasn't yelling anymore. He just wanted Draco to consider the idea that Tom was not the Voldemort he knew.

Harry could see Draco's chest heaving rapidly, a redness appearing on his ears. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he could have sworn tears were starting to form in Draco's eyes. Draco's voice was suddenly quiet. "You have no idea who he used to be."

Before Harry could respond, Draco began undoing his shirt. The thin, almost-white scars revealed themselves on his pale skin, as well as a holster that seemed to be imbedded into his torso, filled with tiny, shrunken viles. He removed the shirt and dropped it on the floor. "Can you see, now? This is what he was." He turned around, revealing a huge mass of scars that distorted the smoothness of his skin. "He did this. Nearly every meeting, he did this."

Harry and Hermione could only stare in stunned silence.

"I wasn't the only one, either." Draco's voice was so quiet, now, hardly above a whisper. "He was a monster. How can I believe anything different for him now?"

Luna's smile faded into a frown. "Would you want to be defined by your past?"

Draco turned back around suddenly to look at her. "But I didn't-"

"You tried to kill Dumbledore," Hermione interrupted. "And cursed others along the way, fixed the Vanishing Cabinet so the Death Eaters could get into Hogwarts, tried to kill Ron, Harry, and I in the Room of Requirement…"

There were definitely tears in Draco's eyes, now. "Because he told me to. He'd have killed me and my parents."

"You would have died defying him, just like everyone else who died in that war." Hermione said. "You had a choice and you chose to follow him."

"He didn't give me a choice," Draco was breathing even harder now. He was looking around him in a panic.

Harry wanted to drop the topic. He knew things about Draco, now. There was more to him than what he appeared to be. He was scarred much deeper than his skin. And all that history was so long ago…

"You could have helped us," Luna said gently. "We would have protected you."

"You crossed the battlefield to his side!" Hermione was the one yelling now. "We were all ready to give our lives!"

"Stop," Harry said quietly, but no one heard him over Draco's sudden screaming.

" _I didn't have a choice!_ " His voice shook. His posture made him look like a cornered dog. " _My family was with him! Was I supposed to abandon them?! Was I supposed to fight them during the battle?! To look into their eyes and see the love they had for me and try and hurt them?!_ " A single tear fell down his face.

Harry stood and held up a hand before Hermione, who appeared as if she was going to yell again. She seemed to calm down after seeing Harry's sad expression. She didn't mean to yell, Harry knew. She was just so worried and stressed about Ron.

Luna gave a small smile and crossed the room to Draco. "You are not your past, Draco."

Draco looked down at his chest, eyes seeming to follow each scar. His fingers traced the edges of the holster as his breathing began to slow.

Harry put an arm around Hermione as she collapsed into tears. They were all having quite a rough morning.

"Draco," Harry said quietly, "We're giving you a chance. Give him a chance. There is more to everyone that what we can see."

Instead of looking up, Draco just nodded, grabbed his shirt, and crawled out of the tent.

Many thoughts ran across Harry's mind. He should apologize to Draco. He should check on Tom. He should talk to the kids. He should stay and comfort Hermione. He should be out looking for the aurors. He should be righting the wrongs of the Death Eaters. He needed to do so much, but there was only one Harry Potter, and he couldn't do it all.

Hermione dried her tears. "I'm sorry. I'm fine." She sighed. "I need to apologize."

Luna was at the entrance to the tent now, holding the flaps up. Neville popped his head in.

"Is everything okay? I saw Draco leave as I was coming back from the loo."

Luna smiled. "We've had an argument. Draco left to think about what we've said."

Neville's face was concerned as he looked to Harry. Harry patted Hermione on the back reassuringly. "Both sides could have handled it better, but everything should be alright after everyone calms down."

Neville nodded, pulling his head out of the entrance so he could look outside.

Hermione gently pulled herself away from Harry, who relaxed his arm, letting it fall down to his side. She gave a curt nod and left the tent, hoping to find Draco before he got too far from the office.

Harry looked to Luna as she asked, "Shall we go check on the news, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry crawled out of the entrance, standing up in the brightness of the office. "I'm sure they've been up to something since we saw them last."

Luna emerged from the tent, shrinking it down behind her so they had more space. Neville already had a letter in hand. He began to read it out loud.

" _Morning Update: 10 am, Tuesday, 10_ _th_ _of September, 2019_

_The Death Eaters, who have been confirmed as the cause to the fire on Sunday night/Monday morning in London, seemed to have had nothing but kidnapping the Potter children planned for last night. All Hogwarts students are accounted for. The investigation is still going on for the aurors with no new leads._

_Today, we mourn the loss of Gryffindor Prefect Dyer Shadows, attacked by the Death Eaters when they entered Hogwarts. No other deaths have been reported._ "

They all kept silent a moment once Neville stopped reading, paying their respects. _How terrible_ , Harry thought, _that the first death of the conflict be a student_.

After a long moment, when the silence did not seem to end, Harry went to the Headmistress's desk and found a blank piece of parchment.

"What're you doing?" Neville asked quietly.

Harry borrowed her quill and began writing. "I'm going to trade myself for the aurors."

Neville looked to Luna, his expression a mixture of confusion and pleading. "He's mad. Tell him he's mad."

_Thomas,_

_I ask that you leave my children alone. If you want me to surrender to you, I will gladly present myself to you, alone with no wand, if you agree to release the aurors to_

Harry stopped writing as Neville continued talking.

"Harry you can't turn yourself in. I'll…I'll get Hermione." Neville pointed to the door of the office. "Luna, tell him this is a bad idea."

Luna smiled. "I think it would work to get the aurors back. Harry just needs a plan to escape unharmed without a wand."

Though Neville sighed, he no longer protested. Harry smiled and kept writing.

_the Order of the Phoenix, unharmed. I will be at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, today at_

Harry paused to look at a clock. It was currently 10:30. Would they have time to come up with a plan and prepare it before noon? Harry assumed they could.

_noon. I will not arrive alone, as I expect you will not either, but the people I bring with me will not engage in any sort of battle unless otherwise prompted._

_Harry Potter_

As he folded up the letter, Harry wondered if he should send an owl from the school. He could only imagine that the Death Eaters would do terrible things to anything they thought Harry cared for. But if he didn't send an owl, what would he send? Did he have any other choice? He held the letter up in the air.

After a few moments, Padma's owl, whom he had met before, swooped into the office from the window, quickly stealing the letter from his hand, and leaving just as fast.

Harry looked to Luna, and then to Neville. "So. What's the plan?"

Hermione and Draco entered the room, quietly closing the door behind them. They had just caught the end of Harry's question.

"Plan?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed and Neville gazed pointedly at him.

"I'm trading myself for the aurors. We're going to think of a plan to-"

"You're _what_?!" Hermione almost squeaked.

Harry held out a hand in an attempt to let her know he hadn't finished yet. "We're trying to think of a plan to get me out of it. Without a wand."

Draco scoffed. "We have countless items at our disposal. They know that. We'll have to think of something they won't prepare for."

Harry nodded and thought for a moment. "What will pureblood, muggle-hating, murderous wizards not expect?"

Hermione's shocked face melted into a smile. "I've got it."

They all watched her, confused, as she pulled out her purse and began to dig through it. After a moment, she pulled out something a picture of a muggle secret agent and held it out to Harry. "Something muggle."

* * *

 

Tom had been lying on his bed for hours, not bothering to move. Why should he? He had nothing to do, nowhere to be, no one to see. He could feel the morning grunginess on his body, but he did not bother to get up and shower. He blinked, and breathed, and let his mind wonder over the things it could not fix. He was a terrible person. He could not change that. He was hated by everyone. He would never be able to change that. He never had a friend not since Nagini died and he never would.

He looked fondly on memories he had last shared with Nagini, but found that he did not have many past his childhood. Once he had left Hogwarts, he could not remember much about Nagini. He used to wake up in the morning with a smile on his face, thankful that she was still resting on his chest. For the life of him, he could not think of a single time he had been happy after making his first horcrux. In fact, he had not thought happiness was such a necessary thing until feeling it again, thinking about Nagini.

Nagini was something special. There had been times in his life when Tom had buried his feelings inside him, long after he stopped writing in diaries. He would overflow from all the stress and anger that he held for the world and everyone in it. It was only Nagini who could sense how he was feeling. Nagini was the one he could explain things to, the one who would offer him advice based not on her own opinions and way of life, but on Tom's. He felt himself long for Nagini. He needed her advice. He needed her concern.

How terrible he treated her in the last few years of her life…

He doubted there was any semblance of her body left. Tom wished he could do magic again, and then he could find a tiny piece of Nagini to make her whole again. But alas…he was a muggle.

Tom stared at his wand, which was sitting on the small end table by the door to the loo. He reached out a hand for it, even though he knew he would not be able to reach it. He said out loud, " _Accio_ ," but he knew nothing would happen. And nothing did. He let his hand fall, hanging off his bed. What was the point of life if there was no magic?

In the other room, he heard something, but could not quite make out what it was. He lifted his head, listening for a moment. After a moment, there was a loud rumble. Someone was here opening his secret potions lab. _Potter_ …

For a moment, Tom rested his head back on the pillow. He did not much care what Harry was here for. Maybe he would find it and leave him alone in his misery.

Of course, Tom was not that lucky.

Harry knocked on the door and then opened it. "Okay, this might sound crazy but do you-" He stopped mid-sentence and looked over Tom, disheveled and in bed. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

Tom rolled his eyes. _Typical Gryffindor: bursts into a room and_ then _considers if anything inside may have been disturbed._ "No. I have been awake for a while."

Harry's brows furrowed. "And you haven't gotten up?"

Tom sighed, forcing his arms to push himself up into a sitting position. "No. I have been quite comfortable in bed."

Harry nodded, not quite sure if he believed Tom. "Alright. Well, anyway. You don't happen to have any muggle weapons, do you? Knives, guns, whatever."

Though his bored expression did not change, Tom was thoroughly confused. "Muggle weapons? Is this something I should not bother inquiring about?"

Harry shrugged. "I'll tell you anyway. I'm going to get into the Death Eaters hide out and break out muggle-style."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "You do not have much regard for your own life, do you?"

"What?" Harry's head tipped to the side. "You think I can't do it? I've done more impressive things."

"I'm sure," Tom replied sarcastically.

Harry opened his mouth but closed it. Tom raised an eyebrow as he seemed to contemplate what to say. "How…I thought you always spoke properly. But that was…a very modern type of speech. Did they have sarcasm when you were young?" He smirked.

With a hint of anger, Tom replied, "Sarcasm is much older than even I."

Harry nodded and looked at anything but Tom. He had meant it as a joke. Clearly, Tom was not in the mood. "So, is that a 'no' on the weapons?"

Tom gave a small growl. He wished Harry would leave him alone. "Aside from a few dinner knives in the kitchen, yes."

"Alright." Harry left, leaving the door open. Tom huffed but allowed it so he could continue his wallowing without having to stand up.

He let his head fall back down onto his pillow, staring at the ceiling. It was rather plain. Why hadn't he decorated this room? He couldn't remember. It probably wasn't high up on his To-Do list, back then.

After a moment, Harry returned, knife in hand. "You don't happen to have any tips for defeating Thomas and the Death Eaters, do you?"

Tom sighed but did not bother sitting up. "If you defeated me, Thomas should be simple, even with just muggle weapons."

Harry smiled. "Is that a compliment?"

"Most certainly not," Tom replied. If it was a compliment, he had not meant it. He only meant that Thomas was a terrible wizard. Then again, he was looking at the only wizard in the world to defeat him, permanently. Maybe it was earned.

Regardless, he could still hear the cheekiness in Harry's voice as he said, "You think I'm a competent wizard and you know it."

Tom replied, "It is only due to the _severe_ incompetence of nearly every other wizard currently alive and able to practice magic."

Harry chuckled. "If you think I'm a competent wizard, you should meet a student of mine. His magical abilities are incredible. I've only known him a week and he's already proved he should be at least a fifth year. It's his first year at Hogwarts and he was muggle-raised."

Harry left once more, closing the door behind him. Tom sat up, curious about this young boy. How incredible did one have to be to impress Harry Potter, the baby who defeated Voldemort in his prime; a first year seeker; able to conjure a powerful, corporeal patronus at thirteen; the destroyer of his horcruxes.

Tom quickly got out of his bed and ran to his library to catch Harry before he left. He threw open the door to his library, finding Harry standing, shirt off, putting the knife he had into a black fabric holster strapped to his chest.

It was in this moment that Tom realized he was also shirtless, wearing nothing but boxers and socks. He attempted not to think about it, preventing any sort of reaction by his body from the embarrassment.

For a moment, neither of them spoke a word to one another, not quite sure what question to ask or comment to make given the situation.

"The boy," Tom finally said. "You praised him. How powerful is he?"

Harry seemed to snap out his trance. "Right, Gemini. He's...uh…pretty powerful. Metamorphmagus. He protected my children from the Death Eaters when they tried to kidnap them. He somehow managed to drain all his magic between walking from my class to his next class. Landed himself in the hospital wing, for that. Not quite sure what he did either time. He managed to get permission to take my seventh-year Animagus training." Harry nodded. "I'd say he's got the potential to be a better wizard than both of us."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "What house is he in?"

Harry smirked as he continued strapping the knife to his body. "Ravenclaw."

"Interesting…" Tom seemed to trail off, letting his thoughts take his attention. "It has been quite some time since a Ravenclaw has had much power since…perhaps Helena Ravenclaw…"

"What?" Harry said loudly, breaking Tom from his thoughts. "There have been plenty of powerful Ravenclaws since Helena."

"Such as?" Tom crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry thought a moment and then chuckled. "I'd know their names if I had bothered to pay attention in History of Magic. Of course, listening might have killed me."

Tom's eyebrows raised and then fell as he cracked a smile. He could remember Professor Binns. History had always been Tom's favorite subject, but there was hardly anything worse than the constant, uninterrupted monotone of Professors Binns, even when he was human. Tom had always assumed he used to be an interesting person, but simply lost the interest teaching the same lessons over and over again.

"Are…are you actually smiling?" Harry seemed to stumble back a bit. "I mean…I know you've smiled, but it was always a pleasant one. Was that a _real_ smile?" Harry's green eyes were bright and wide as a smile bloomed on his face as well. There was a strange sort of hypnotic sense about his eyes, one that made Tom want to pause time and just look them over completely, just to be able to comprehend them fully. Tom settled for just a short glance before he rolled his eyes.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy the humor in your statement? I was once taught by Professor Binns. I understand the intended joke."

"Yeah…" Harry's smile did not fade one bit. "But you…I don't know…actually _liked_ the joke."

Tom watched Harry a moment. How many times in his life had Tom seen such an undeterred amount of happiness on others? _Hundreds of times,_ he thought. And how many times had he actually been the cause of it?

Aside from his death, he couldn't remember even once.

"I suppose you believed that, as a Dark Lord, I had no sense of humor." Tom's smiled softened. How many times had he himself felt happiness? He was sure it was simply not enough.

"I suppose."

For a long moment, their eyes just rested on one another, not quite looking at or through, but somewhere between. A quiet air passed between them, rather peaceful. Once the moment passed, Harry spoke again.

"Does this mean I can tell you other jokes, then?"

Though Tom was going to reject the offer, a tiny glimmer of hope told him that maybe he could find the solution to permanent happiness. Maybe laughing was the start. "It would depend on how well the jokes are written and recited."

Harry nodded, smile still on his face. "I will definitely think of a few good ones, then." He glanced around, suddenly, smile fading. "Time, time," he muttered to himself. "I should probably go. I've got things to do."

Tom felt the smile drain out of him like water down the sink. He wanted to hear those jokes now. "I see." He wanted to make Harry stay, or at least promise to return. Was that an odd request? He debated it.

Harry just about had the door closed behind him when Tom called out, "Harry!"

Harry stopped, looking back into the room at Tom, a bit surprised to hear his name. "Yes?"

Tom fought the urge to swallow. His throat had suddenly gotten tight; that had never happened before. Many thoughts ran through his head at light speed before he settled on one. "Why did you take me with you? You could have left me to my fate with the Death Eaters. I would no longer pose as a threat."

One corner of Harry's lips curled into a smile. "No one deserves to die because of their past."

Harry shut the door behind him, and Tom was alone again, left to stare at an empty ceiling and ponder over words he had never pieced together.


	20. En(Counter)

 

Ginny sat at her desk, writing away. There was no fire in her eyes. There was no determination in her heart. There was hardly any sort of response in her at all. If asked, she wouldn't know how long the bulb had been flickering. If it died, she probably wouldn't notice.

She had been within the greying cream walls of the side office for days. She hadn't slept. She hadn't bathed. She hadn't brushed her teeth. She hadn't changed clothes. It was difficult to tell if she had even blinked.

_Nothing has happened to the Aurors,_ she wrote over and over again. _They are investigating a case in Eastern Europe._

There had once been fight in her. If she tried, she might be able to remember it. At some point in her life, she had been something to marvel. She once played Quidditch professionally. She could beat nearly anyone in a duel. Her hexes were legendary. Even against Harry Potter…

Her writing switched now to copy _Harry Potter is bad. He must be avoided_ , over and over again.

No, of course she'd never known that man. She was respectable. She had a ministry job. Ginny was important to the Ministry.

As if in a practiced motion, Ginny finished writing, and moved the paper to the pile beside her. Around her, the ruffle of other papers in other offices followed. Everyone moved their finished paper to the pile of finished papers and picked up a new paper from the piles of blank papers on the other side.

_Harry Potter is bad. He must be avoided._ _Harry Potter is bad. He must be avoided._

God forbid that her children ever saw their father again. How terrible it must be for them to have such a father. What would Ron and Hermione think? Ron…her brother…

_Nothing has happened to the Aurors. They are investigating a case in Eastern Europe._ _Nothing has happened to the Aurors. They are investigating a case in Eastern Europe._

Of course. Ron was fine. Probably wearing a good amount of clothing to keep warm. All the aurors are. All with protections around them, of course. That's why no one has seen them or can report their location. Ron was probably enjoying himself.

Maybe Ginny should take her children on a vacation there. Maybe they would like Russia…

_I am important to the Ministry. I love my job and must never leave. I am important to the Ministry. I love my job and must never leave._

She was incredibly busy. She'd never have time for that. Her children were off at school, anyway. How could she ever let her friends in the Ministry down? The place would fall apart without her.

Out of the corner of her eyes, something bright pink caught Ginny's attention. She turned her neck to see, but found it painful and sore. As her head fell back into place, it was comfortable once again.

Softly, someone behind her whispered, " _ **Imperio**_."

Ginny continued writing, no thoughts going on in her dull red head.

Vaugely, as if some distance behind her, she heard voices.

"This one is a tricky one."

"Nonsense. She's always fallen into place just like everyone else."

"Make sure to keep her on more regiments than the others. Every _half_ hour instead of every hour. Don't let her get any ideas. Understand?"

There was a bored sigh. "Yes, Dolores. Every half hour."

_Dolores…_ Ginny suddenly thought. _Dolores…Umbridge…_

Two pairs of footsteps walked away.

Was there something she remembered about that name? She had heard it before. Her mind was rather fuzzy.

_I'm important to the Ministry. I love my job and must never leave. I'm important to the ministry…_

She stopped and stared at the page. She was supposed to capitalize "Ministry," but she didn't.

Every muscle in her body demanded she keep writing, but she refused. She realized she didn't want to write.

Her eyes were getting clearer, more vivid. She could see the dull walls and hear the various quills writing around her. _Dolores Umbridge was terrible,_ she thought. _She was sent to Azkaban. She helped corrupt the Ministry to help the Dark Lord, and she's doing it again._ Ginny took in a long, deep breath, as if she hadn't been breathing all these days. Her whole body hurt. It wanted her to keep writing, but she couldn't. She had to get out of the Ministry.

She stood, stumbling to gain her balance from all the pain. Her legs were on fire, but she still stood and walked from the cubicle she had been in. Looking around, all she could see was cubicles. She felt around in her pockets. _No wand._ She went back in her cubicle and checked, but found nothing but a giant stack of finished papers, a huge stack of blank papers, and a self-inking quill.

Ginny had to escape. _I'm important to the…no! The Ministry is bad._ She held her head, trying to comprehend the thought fully. _The Ministry is…bad! The Ministry is bad. The Ministry is bad._ She repeated the thought in her head, letting it focus her mind.

There was one door to the room full of cubicles. But who all was filling these cubicles? Ginny quickly walked around, peeking into each cubicle and finding more and more of her coworkers lost to the same trance she had been. Though she thought about trying to release them, she didn't know how lost they were, or how she would lower her chances of escaping if she did somehow manage to release them all. She would have to come back for them later, then.

As Ginny made her way to the door, she began to feel sick. Every limb was weak, her head felt heavy and hot. Though she managed to shuffle her feet toward the door, she found it more and more difficult to keep going. She was so exhausted. She had to get out. _The Ministry is bad. The Ministry is bad._ Her knees buckled underneath her, but she was getting so close to the door. She crawled slowly, trying her hardest to reach the door. _The Ministry is bad. Harry Potter is…good? Harry…can help. He can help._ Ginny reached out a shaking hand and grabbed the knob to the door, turning it and pulling it open just enough to peek outside.

"Listen, Albacore-"

"It's Albacin."

Ginny watched Dolores's pleasant smile grow on her face. "Yes, Albacin. I expect great things from you. Do not let me down." She turned and began walking down a hallway with many, many doors. "Don't forget the Half-past-eleven Imperious!"

The man mumbled under his breath, "Imperious…no one is even resisting…Doesn't even know anything about the Imperious…" Ginny just barely managed to roll behind the door as he opened it and stepped through.

She watched as Albacin disappeared into the maze of cubicles. She crawled out of the room and out into the hallway, feeling a soft, cold breeze hit her face; fresh air. For a moment, she just sat outside the door, wondering what to do next. She had no memory of where she was in the Ministry, much less how to get out. She had no wand. Her body was so incredibly weak.

_What would Hermione do?_ Ginny glanced around her. The ceiling was plain and white. The floor was cold, marbled tile. None of the walls had vents. How did the breeze get to her face? It had happened too late for it to be from when Umbridge left out the door. She held out her hand, feeling another one gently slip between her fingers.

_There must be a door out from here._

She crawled around, feeling underneath each door for an air current. When she got to the third door, just two doors before the one Umbridge left out of, she felt the breeze. As she looked up at the door, she saw the name _Albacin Thoroway_ on the door.

Struggling to stand on her knees, she turned the knob and found it unlocked. As the door opened, her weight shifted, sending her falling into the room without enough strength to catch herself, though she tried. Ginny hit the floor, feeling the pain in her arms and head. The world was becoming dizzy, but she couldn't stop now.

By sheer force of will, Ginny pushed up against the ground, getting to her knees once more, and then to her feet. Her legs shook, but were stable enough to see the open window letting in the breeze and bright sunlight. Slowly, she walked to it, careful to keep her legs strong. The wind flowed softly around her red hair, as if calling her to it. She smiled in relief. It felt so nice.

Once she reached the window, she looked down to see the office was about three stories high and the ground below was concrete. There were some bushes that could break her fall, but she would still be very injured, especially while she was weak.

She glanced around the room. The man seemed to live here. There was a bed, a desk, a comfy chair, another door that probably led to a bathroom, and a wardrobe.

Ginny slowly made her way to the wardrobe and opened it to find it was filled with dark brown robes, just like the ones he had been wearing. One by one, she pulled them off the hangers and tied them together. She didn't know how strong the knots would be, since she hardly had the strength to tie them properly, but it would have to do. In moments, she had a robe rope.

Down the hall, she heard some commotion. She must have been found out. In a rush, Ginny tied the end of the rope to the desk and tugged as hard as she could. The desk scooted closer to the window just enough so Ginny could climb on top of it and carefully lower herself out the window. She held onto the rope for dear life, hoping the rope wouldn't come untied as her legs began to give out. The ground was coming closer and closer, but she was running out of rope. Just as she reached the end and thought maybe she could jump, there was a voice sounding above her.

"She's escaped out the window!"

Ginny let go, dropping herself into the bushes and flinging a shoe out into the empty street by accident. Though she landed on her back in the hard, unforgiving bushes, her mind was stuck on the thought that would know where she was because of her shoe.

She saw as Albacin stuck his head out of the window and looked around. His eyes caught on the shoe and he groaned. "She's escaped. Even forgot a shoe."

A loud, shrill voice rang out behind him. "Albacore, _what_ is going on? What is all the commotion?"

He sighed and Ginny watched through the leaves as his head disappeared back into the room. "Nothing. My bird's just escaped."

Umbridge huffed. "Honestly, you should know better than to keep owls caged up all the time. It's not good for their development." A door shut loudly.

Albacin untied the robes and pulled them back inside the room. His mumbling drifted all the way out of the room into the fresh air of the day. "Blasted girl's gonna get me killed. Stupid Weasley-Potter. Now how am I gonna get my fresh air?"

Moments later, the window was closed and Albacin was nowhere in sight. Ginny's heart pounded in her chest. She had done it. She escaped.

Her eyes began to droop and she felt no qualms as she let them close. Sleep came over her in an instant.

* * *

Rumors had already spread like wildfire throughout each house about the Death Eaters trying to kidnap the Potter children. Albus thought it was odd, considering they weren't really supposed to leave their rooms, let alone their house. He thought about all the students that had come up to the room asking about it, and he thought about the story they were supposed to tell them all, to keep Gemini safe. Albus was lying on his back on the floor, thinking and staring out the window just above and to the right of him.

There was yet another knock at James's door. James, who had finally gotten comfy on his bed with Lily still taking up most of the space, sighed and carefully got up. Lily rolled her eyes.

"What do they all want? Just tell them to bug off."

James gave half a shrug. "This is what it's like to be famous, Lil. This is probably what Dad went through, but everywhere he went." He opened the door a crack to find three first year girls with red Gryffindor ties and Hufflepuff robes. They must have thought they were so sneaky. "Yes?"

They giggled altogether. "Is Albus there?"

James looked back into the room. "Albus, there are three first year Hufflepuffs at the door. Are you here?"

Albus replied, "Nope."

"Sorry," he said turning back to the girls. "He's not here. You'll have to come back later."

Though the girls seemed about to protest, James closed the door anyway.

"I think everyone thinks you were the hero, Albus." James grinned. "So many girls at the door for you and it's not even noon yet."

Albus scoffed, rolling onto his stomach so he could look at James. "First of all, I'm fairly certain it's noon already, if not almost noon. Second of all," Albus paused, thinking of the words he needed, "I'm not a hero. Especially not in that bloody story we have to tell everyone."

James laughed as he made his way back to his bed. "Well, I _may_ have altered it a bit."

Everyone in the room suddenly looked at James, who froze.

"What do you mean 'altered it?'" Albus raised an eyebrow.

"Well…" he began, looking around the room. "I _may_ have put you in my place in the story."

The room was silent for all of three seconds.

"What?" both Lily and Albus asked, incredulous.

"Oh, that's a good one, mate," Shawn replied with a grin. "All the ladies are interested in someone brave and protective. No wonder they're swarming us."

Gemini, eyes turning an odd shade of orange, crinkled his nose. The thought of being swarmed by anyone made his skin crawl.

"Well, you never really talk to girls, aside from Rose and Lily." James attempted to find the comfy position on his bed that he had before. "You always have your nose in a book. Now, you have easy pickings."

Albus sat up. "Honestly? This isn't a prank? You actually did this?"

James nodded. "Yeah. I did." Just at that moment, there was another knock at the door. "And you know what? You can start answering the door, too. Tell your fangirls just how brave you are." James gave a wicked smile.

Albus sighed and got up to open the door. This time, it was his roommates. _Thank Merlin_.

They all began talking at once in a hurry, and Albus only caught, "Everyone is saying you saved your-" before he interrupted them, loudly.

"I did nothing!" He put a hand on his forehead for a moment. "Here, come in. We'll tell you the _real_ story." He opened the door further and his roommates came in, sitting on the floor next to Gemini, Rose, and Hugo. Albus closed the door behind them for good measure.

"What actually happened," Lily began, "was the Death Eaters broke into Hogwarts, managing to petrify Sandel and even a prefect, and we heard them coming up the stairs. _James_ ," she made a face at James beside her before continuing on with the story, "told everyone to hide in his trunk, which is expanded on the inside. We all got in and _James_ cast a disillusionment charm on the trunk. They came in, they saw that the window was open, since we left it open, and looked out there to see if we were on the roof. _James_ hit them with a stinging hex when they weren't looking and they fell out the window. The professors caught them when they were escaping."

"Ohhh," they said collectively.

"Apparently James has this idea that I need the attention of nearly every girl in the school who is into heroes." Albus rolled his eyes. "Even though I don't want it." One of his roommates began to snicker, but was quickly silenced with an elbow to the ribs. This did not go unnoticed by James.

"Something funny?" James began to get defensive. He thought maybe they were making fun of his little brother just because he kept to himself. There was nothing wrong with how Albus was living his life. James just was having a bit of fun. That was his job as big brother.

They all three shook their heads at the same time. _Very suspicious._ James narrowed his eyes, not convinced at all.

"James, it's fine." Albus's cheeks were beginning to redden, though he hoped they wouldn't. Even Lily was looking concerned at James. Lily, Rose, and Albus's roommates all knew. Was this the moment he'd been dreading? He really hoped not.

"It's not fine, Albus." James was sitting up now, preparing to get up and face them properly, but Lily held him by the waist. "Anyone who laughs at my brother is _far_ from okay."

His roommates were frightened, trying to think of ways to make a quick escape.

'We've, uh…got to get back to our room. It's nearly lunch," one of them said. The other two, twins, fought through much stuttering to agree.

"You can't leave, you _Cowards_. Apologize for making fun of my brother, or I'll make you!" James was struggling to loosen Lily's arms about him, but found her grip very tight.

"They weren't making fun of me, James," Albus said. He really didn't want this to be happening.

James ignored him. "Tyler, Shawn! Help me out."

"What? No. James, it's no big deal." Albus said as Shawn and Tyler hopped off their beds. "Seriously, calm down. It's fine. Everything is fine."

"James!" Lily yelled in a fake panicked voice.

James froze in place, as did everyone in the room. "What is it, Lil? What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." Everyone let out a breath. "That's what Albus has been saying. Listen," she reminded him. This was not the first time she had to remind James to listen and keep his cool.

Though he felt ready to attack anyone who was mean to his brother, he stood down. "Alright. I'll listen. What was that about, then?"

"It was nothing. Just…" Albus sighed. He wouldn't let it go, would he? "Nothing."

James shook his head. "Not nothing. Explain this." He sounded just like Harry when he was stern with them.

Albus looked to Lily with eyes full of panic, who just nodded her head, then to Rose, who gave a small shrug. He was on his own, then. His eyes fell back to James, a shade darker.

Though he felt his heart thumping in his chest and his pulse rising, Albus knew it had to be done. The words were there, he just had to force himself to say them. His brother would protect him against bullies, so that meant he'd love him no matter what, right? _No matter what._ Albus tried to make the words calm him to no avail. He took in a breath.

"I'm gay."

Albus could feel everyone's eyes on him, staring, bearing down, judging his confession. Was he worthy of keeping? Would they let him rot? He was feeling unsure of himself. His throat tightened and he could hardly breathe. The seconds of quiet felt like hours, stretching the length of the day, making him wait impossible amounts of time for the reaction.

"Oh," was all James managed after a moment. He'd never thought of his brother that way. But surely he was the same person he had always been, right? Nothing had changed about him. This was literally the Albus he had attempted to defend not even a minute ago. He just knew more about him, now. And that was good. They were brothers; they were supposed to know all about each other. This was another step towards that. James smiled. His brother trusted him. "Okay. Good to know."

Albus swallowed hard. "That's it?"

James nodded and looked around the room. "Anyone have a problem with it?" No one said anything. "Good. Then I don't have to beat anyone up. Yet." James grinned.

"Okay," one of Albus's roommates said abruptly. "We're gonna head out now, if that's okay."

James gave a small wave and they all were out the door as fast as they could manage. James chuckled. "Am I _that_ intimidating?"

Gemini, as the only one in the room who didn't really know James all that well, decided to reply, "I wouldn't want to get on your bad side."

Albus looked to Gemini, eyes a tan color, like the sand on a beach they had once visited. It was the same color they were last night as they came back from the bathroom. He supposed it meant Gemini was feeling trusted and cared about. Albus enjoyed that feeling, too, as James seemed to react positively to the truth. It was the color of finally ridding of the fear of losing a friend, and growing closer to one another because of it. It was friendship.

Rose came up to Albus and hugged him. "I knew you could do it."

They both smiled. Lily and Rose had been telling Albus to tell James for months, now. Lily climbed off the bed to hug Albus, too.

"I'm proud of you, Al."

Albus was breathing easy now, feeling so much love in his heart. His family was the biggest and the best.

"Alright, I don't usually hug," James got up off his bed as well, "but I'll make an exception this once." He threw his arms around Lily and Rose and Albus. "Come on, everyone. We're all hugging. Join the hug. We're all family."

Hugo smiled and added his arms to the hug. Though Shawn and Tyler shrugged at each other, they also added their arms to the hug.

Gemini stood, unsure of what a group hug felt like. He had never really been hugged before. What should he expect? He stood just outside the hug, looking in, wondering.

"Come on, Gem." James moved a hand up, as if making space for him. "You know you want to."

Gemini smiled. _Gem,_ he thought. _I like it._ He added his arms to the hug. It was very warm. Too warm, actually, but incredibly comforting. He rather liked it.

"I'm glad you told us, Al," said Hugo from somewhere inside the hug.

"Yeah, way to be brave," said Shawn.

"You're the real hero," added Tyler.

They all giggled and the hug gently tugged itself apart. As they stood about in a big cluster , there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, _Merlin._ " Albus rolled his eyes.

James grinned and went to the door, opening it to find two Gryffindor girls, giggling and whispering until they noticed James.

"Is Albus there?" one asked.

"No. Did you hear that story, too?" James gave a fake huff. " _Someone_ has been mixing up the story. Albus didn't really save all our butts," he flashed a charming smile, "I did. I'm James, by the way. Make sure all the ladies know that this is my room. Anyway, I did all the saving while Albus was cowering in fear, trying not to pee his pants. That's alright though." James gave a wicked grin, "the Death Eaters _did_ pee their pants." At that, James shut the door in their faces and the room burst into laughter behind him.

"Absolutely perfect story."

"Brilliant."

James did an over exaggerated bow. "Yes, thank you. I'll be here until…well, until they let us out." He smiled. It felt good to be him.

* * *

The weapon holster on Harry's chest felt as if it was growing tighter as Harry's nerves began to creep in. He was standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, wandless as promised, just waiting. Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Draco were all behind him, ready for a surprise attack, though none came.

The sun was high in the sky above them, warming the chilly air only slightly. It was past noon, for sure. Harry looked at his wrist, though it did not help. He needed a watch.

They stood for a long while, looking into the forest for any sign of the Death Eaters. The idea that maybe they were not going to show up had not been absent from Harry's mind, but he hadn't much entertained it until then. Maybe they thought it would be a trap.

It was when Harry was about to voice the idea out loud that he saw a face appear through some distant leaves.

There was a lot of rustling as a small group of six Death Eaters in black robes and silver masks made their way through the forest on foot. They stopped at the very edge, standing in a nearly perfect curve. Harry watched as the middle one removed his mask, revealing short, raggedy blond hair and dull brown eyes.

"Ah, 'arry, such a good day, no?" Thomas grinned. "I 'ope yoo 'ave been tru with yoor words."

Harry held up his hands. "No wand. Now where are the aurors?"

Thomas smiled. "According to ze Ministry, zey are in Eastern Europe with an investigation."

"Where are they really?" yelled Hermione full of impatience. Draco gently put a hand in front of her, reminding her to keep her cool.

"Zey are safe. Unharmed." He gave a chuckle. "Mostly."

"I'll only go with you if you bring them here," Harry said. He was worried. _Mostly?_ _How good was mostly?_ He was sure Hermione was about to curse them all herself. Harry felt the idea beginning to seem reasonable.

"Yes, zey are on zeir way. Just une moment." Thomas's creepy smile was beginning to make Harry angry.

They all waited, looking at the other side, prepared to attack at any moment.

"Ah, parfait! Zey are here!" Thomas held his hands out, gesturing to behind them.

Harry turned around to see many more Death Eaters. The front-most each held one auror, bound and unconscious. Their group was outnumbered and completely surrounded. Harry wished he had more back up than he planned for.

"Alright," Harry said. He held a hand up, signaling to the professors. Fourteen apparated in, one for each auror. "Can we take them, then?"

Thomas nodded, still smiling. "Of course, 'arry."

The Death Eaters released the aurors and the professors grabbed them and disapperated. At last, they were safe. Harry breathed a bit easier. He nodded again, signaling to the group behind him. Hesitantly, they pulled out their wands and disapperated as well, leaving Harry alone.

"I'm all yours."

Two Death Eaters came up behind him, grabbing each arm and pushing him to his knees. "Formidable!" Thomas smiled wider. "Zen we shall kill yoo now!"

In seconds, Harry was somewhere else, feeling dizzy and slightly sick from side-apparation. It was dark and the ground below him felt like stone. It would do.

"Any last words, 'arry?" Thomas held his wand out, pointing it right at Harry.

Harry, heart beating faster than he could keep up with, nodded while slowly lifting his shoe to his restrained hand, being careful so he wouldn't be noticed. "Yes. Tell my family that I love them. And tell the Wizarding world that I will always sacrifice myself so it may live in peace." Harry slowly pulled a small knife from the sole of his shoe.

"Ah, beau. Zat iz so brave of yoo. I am sure zey vill remember always." Just as Thomas seemed to be ready to say the curse, Harry began to move. He had one shot at this; he hoped he'd get it right.

He stabbed the wrist of one Death Eater, who immediately released his hand, and swung his other arm around so that the other Death Eater was in front of him, blocking the curse that never came.

"Hommes! Attaque!" yelled Thomas, who was beginning to back away.

Harry grabbed the wand of the Death Eater before him and kicked him in the crotch. _Yep, that's most of the cool muggle tricks I've got up my sleeve. But one more shouldn't hurt._ Harry quickly cast a protection charm over himself as spells began flying his way from all around. With his free hand, he reached into his shirt, pulling out the now sharpened knife Tom had let him use.

Thomas was going further and further into the crowd, getting away from the commotion of battle. _What kind of Dark Lord is he? He's running away from the good part._ Harry followed after him, trying to at least get a good enough shot.

Time seemed to slow as Harry noticed a perfect spot between the heads of Death Eaters that Thomas seemed to be heading for. He held the knife by the blade, pulling it back and then releasing it into the air. It flew, turning in the air, heading right for the empty space as Thomas's head entered it. Harry held his breath. He'd practiced it before, but he'd always had a good amount of perfectly aimed shots ruined because the handle hit the mark instead of the blade. He hoped this wasn't one of those times.

Thomas turned his head to look at Harry, suddenly feeling a sharp pain in his temple as the knife sunk into it, burying the tip in and slicing all the nerves. He let out a yell, hands flying up to his head. At that very moment, Harry threw the other, smaller knife in his hand to Thomas's eye, closed in pain. It sunk in, as well, cutting through the eye lid and into the eye. Thomas let out another, loud yell of pain. The Death Eaters, unsure of what just happened, took their focus off of Harry.

Though the plan was to escape as soon as possible, how could Harry leave without taking out at least some of the Death Eaters? He was a hero, after all.

Harry sent a loud, " _ **Bombarda Maxima**_ ," at a cluster of them, hiding his face from the explosion that occurred. Through the dust, more spells flew in his direction. He countered one right after the other, making his way through it all to Thomas. He couldn't leave Thomas able to lead.

Thomas was now on the floor, holding his hands over the wounds on his head, knives on the floor, now. There was little blood, but lots of pain; that's what Hermione had told him about stabbing the temple. The eye wound was just to make the fight quicker.

Harry, though he thought about using two of the unforgivable curses, settled on the third one. " _ **Imperio.**_ "

In moments, Thomas's creepy smile crawled back onto his face, as if he wasn't in any pain at all. "Pretend you are still the Dark Lord," Harry told him, "Take down the Death Eaters secretly from the inside."

As the dust began to clear, Harry grabbed the nearest wand he could find and disapperated, leaving Thomas on the floor beside his Death Eaters, smiling and bleeding, unable to see out of one eye.


	21. The Real Enemy

Harry was never much for killing. If there was any other option, why take a life? He hadn't wanted to take Thomas's life, so he didn't. That was understandable, right?

As he stood at the entrance to the hospital wing, seeing the beds filled with aurors, he wondered if he had put them in danger once more by not killing Thomas. Obviously, the whole job wouldn't have been over after that, but it would have been a start. Typically, without a leader, crazy cults like the Death Eaters would flop around like a headless fish until it finally died out. But he hadn't killed Thomas. He'd used the Imperious Curse on him. He'd told the others and they seemed to think it was a good choice, but had it really been the _right_ choice?

Hermione hadn't moved from Ron's side since he'd gotten back. She had told the children he was safe, but so far, they hadn't been allowed to go visit him. Hermione had said she wasn't sure if she'd want them to see him until he got better. The aurors, especially the ones that fought back, had gotten injured pretty severely; burns, cuts, massive bruises. Some of them were hardly recognizable. It was only Ron's bright red hair that had identified him to Hermione. Harry could hardly look at any of them. It made him sick that there were still people who thought they were fine, doing an investigation somewhere far off, just as if it were any other day.

Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, a rather large basket in her hands of various potions and elixirs. Her eyes were large and thin eyebrows knitted, clearly worried as she went bed to bed, giving each auror what they needed. Harry couldn't imagine being her. In her many, many years here, there had been three wars, countless amounts of accidents, petrified students, death…he couldn't even imagine what else. She was the safest healer they could ever turn to; the amount of trust and responsibility put in her hands was massive. Harry was an alright healer, but he didn't think he could manage all this thrown his way all at once. He would forever respect Madam Pomfrey.

It had been hours since he'd gotten back, but Harry hadn't moved from the entrance where he stood. He had only stared at the damage terrible people could do. He wondered how they could do such things without feeling guilt or shame. Did their way of life eat away at them? Surely, it had to. That was the human way, wasn't it?

There was a sudden flicker of light out of the corner of Harry's eye, breaking him from his thoughts. He turned to look but found the vaguely incorporeal horse patronus was making its way around to where he'd been facing. He watched it curiously, figuring it would find its way to Hermione or Ron, but it stopped before him and began to speak in Ginny's voice.

"Harry, the Ministry is keeping everyone here, using the Imperious Curse on them and convincing them that nothing bad is going on and not to trust you. I managed to escape, but only barely. I don't have a wand. I'm not quite sure what _is_ going on, but I know it's nothing normal. I feel like I haven't slept in weeks. I probably haven't. Umbridge is behind it all." Harry watched as the patronus began to falter. "I'm hiding under some bushes by the Ministry. Just woke from a nap. Not sure where I am or where to go. I-" The patronus vanished into thin air.

He furrowed his brows, already making his way to Hermione.

"Hermione," he whispered. She tore her eyes away from an unconscious Ron and looked up to Harry's. "Ginny sent me a patronus. Apparently the Ministry is keeping its workers hostage there, under Imperious Curse. She's just escaped."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Yes, that makes sense. She told me nothing was going on, but it didn't really sound like her. The Ministry did all this?"

"Dolores Umbridge," he corrected.

Hermione gasped. "I knew they should have kept her in Azkaban. That vile woman." She took a breath. "Where is Ginny? Does she need help?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, she's at the Ministry still, hiding in some bushes? Wandless. Lost."

Hermione immediately stood, patting Ron and whispering something into his ear before turning back to Harry. "Well, let's go then. We've got to find her."

Harry hesitated. Ginny had been forcibly convinced not to trust him, but how much of this summer had been her own doing? Had it been her or the Ministry that had prevented him from seeing his children?

Hermione saw it in his eyes. "Harry," she said softly, "You don't love her anymore, I can understand that. But you will always be her hero. You're hero to all of us. That's why she went to you for help. She knew you'd help her."

Harry nodded, sending the news with his Patronus to everyone involved. "Right. Yes, let's go." Harry pulled out his wand and held out his arm for Hermione to grab.

In moments, they were in London, surrounded by blackened buildings and charred streets. They walked the crowded streets, heading down the street to the Ministry. Harry wondered, in his head, how Ginny was hiding in some bushes by the Ministry if the Ministry was underground. Did the Ministry even have bushes? He voiced this to Hermione.

"No, I don't believe the Ministry has bushes." She seemed confused. "I'd never encountered any in my entire career there." She sighed. "I go on maternity leave and this crazy mess happens. I thought they'd fall apart without me, but not this bad. Though now it makes sense why they wanted me to leave this early on."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "Maternity leave?"

Hermione, who hadn't realized he'd stopped until she had passed him, turned back to look at him. "Oh. I suppose no one told you. We hadn't really been talking as much this past summer as we normally do."

"You're pregnant?" Harry asked, incredulous.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes." She put a hand to her belly, a smile on her face. "It's another girl!"

Harry felt a smile grow on his face, too. "That's fantastic! When is she due?"

Tears came into Hermione's eyes as she said, "About New Years Eve."

"Oh _Merlin_ , that's soon." He looked Hermione over. He hadn't even been able to tell she was pregnant, but now that he looked, he could see the bump under her coat. Harry could hardly believe this. "What are you going to name her?"

"Ron and I were thinking Emma. Emma Lauren."

Harry hugged Hermione and the crowd parted around them. "Emma Lauren Weasley. It's beautiful."

Hermione shook her head as Harry released her. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner."

"It's alright. I know now." Harry, gentle smile on his face, now looked towards the phone booth that Arthur Weasley had once shown him leads to the Ministry. "Come on, we've got to find Ginny."

* * *

As boring as the past hours had been, Tom had not bothered to move much. He had only just brushed his teeth, taken a shower, and put on different clothes. Even these mundane tasks had taken a great heap of effort to muster up. What was the point? He had no magic. He could not have the toothbrush brush his teeth without him having to hold it, or transfigure his clothes, or summon the shampoo from the cabinet. Thank the great heavens above that he still had a magical shower that was always the perfect temperature and perfect water pressure. He honestly would not have bothered if the thought of cold water rushing down his back had not occurred. For the time being, he was perked up enough to try and find some food.

As the Dark Lord, he had never really taken to eating three meals a day. When he did eat, it was often at Malfoy Manor. The elves there were very accustomed to his presence. He enjoyed the house elves' meals, but found that he could not imagine having his own elves. To have that sort of servant involved releasing a certain amount of privacy that Tom could not even bear to think about.

He went to his kitchen and stared at the refrigerator, wondering if he dared to open it. There were three options: one, he could open it to find something he had forgotten to use a preservation charm on and went far past rotten for the past twenty years; two, he could open it to find something he had placed a preservation charm on that he could easily eat, regardless of its age; three, he could find nothing. He assumed the only viable options were one and three. He sighed and opened the refrigerator.

Nothing.

He shut the door and decided to rummage through the few cabinets he had. In one, he found an empty jar. In another, he found a spider web. In all the other cabinets, he found nothing. He ran a hand through his wet hair and thought. What could he do? Maybe he had some old potions for hunger?

Tom walked to his library and opened the door. He grabbed the letter opener he kept above the doorframe and made his way to the fireplace, only to be startled by the presence of one Draco Malfoy.

Though Tom wanted answers as to why he was here, he let all question fall as he noticed the book in his hands.

" _The Theories and Inclinations of Wands and Wandlore_? Interesting read." Tom held the letter opener gently in his hands, twisting it slowly by the pointed tip.

Draco nodded, eyes slightly narrowed. Maybe he was intruding upon Draco's space. Tom could understand the desire to read completely alone, even in another's house. Tom ran the dulled side of the blade carefully across his fingers, feeling the cold steel on his warm skin, and pricked the palm of his hand just below his thumb with the sharpened tip. He hardly felt the pain as he pressed the tip in further, blood beginning to gather on the blade. He crossed the distance to the fireplace and flicked the blood off the blade and into the embers. A fire roared and the secret door behind him opened. He wiped off the blade, placed the letter opener back above the doorframe, and went to his potions lab.

Inside, he felt the winds calling him. He smiled as they caressed his face in a rather excited manner. Did the enchanted winds grow a fondness for him? And after all those years where he did nothing but yell at them…

"Boreas, fetch me a potion for this cut."

In moments, a large bottle half-full with blue liquid soared through the air and into his hand. He opened the top and poured a few drops over his cut, watching it disappear. He recapped it and held it up. The potion was whisked away, back onto the shelf from which it came.

Tom glanced around. It seemed Boreas had kept the place perfectly tidy, not a speck of dust in sight. The idea made him rather sad. What if he had not returned?

"Boreas, do I happen to have a potion for ridding of hunger?"

Another potion bottle was tossed into the air, gently landing in Tom's hand. Tom smiled.

"Thank you, Boreas."

Tom turned, about to leave his potions lab, but stopped. "Actually, Boreas, come out of this lab. I could use you around the house."

In a rush, a gust of wind shot past him and into the library, giving the chandelier a bit of a shake before the door to the library shot open and the winds went to the rest of the house. Tom chuckled. If he could never again do magic, at least he could be amused by the remnants of the magical life he once had. The thought was only appealing for a short moment.

"What _was_ that?"

A disheveled Draco peeked from the floor he had slid too when the winds had shot out.

Tom chuckled softly. "That was Boreas, the winds that live in my potions lab. She is a gentle enchantment that acts as a loyal servant."

Draco stood with wide eyes, and thinned lips. "Did you actually…laugh?"

Though Tom was hardly taken aback by the question, he let his smile fade until his lips were just a line. "I apologize. I will attempt to curb my happiness from now on."

Tom turned to look back to his potions lab. In his stomach, he felt the ever satisfying feeling of being perfectly full. It was a comforting change from the biting emptiness that had overtaken it before.

"I had not meant to insult you, My Lord…" Draco trailed off. The words had honestly slipped out of his mouth before he had even realized he had spoken them.

"Draco," Tom began, not even bothering to turn around and see the emotions Draco must be having. After feeling emotions once more, Tom was beginning to understand the privacy that Malfoys had once taken to having when they felt emotions strongly enough. They were like a bright, flashing sign to everyone else; a loud broadcast for others to be aware of. "I am a Lord no longer."

With heavy chest, Tom walked into his potions lab and shut the door behind him.

* * *

"This is the longest lock-down ever," Hugo said with a huff, sitting against the far wall from the entrance to the room.

"Aw, come on, Hugo, look at the bright side:" James smiled, though no one could see as he was currently looking out the window. "That's two days without classes!"

"I was actually looking forward to my classes today," Rose said softly, sitting next to Hugo.

"Me too," Albus piped in, not bothering to move from his uncomfortable position on the floor. "I would have had Care of Magical Creatures today. We were supposed to talk about unicorns and pegasi."

"Pegasi?" Tyler, one of Jame's roommates, wondered aloud, sitting up on his bed.

"It's the plural for Pegasus," Gemini replied lying next to Albus but facing the opposite direction.

"Oh." Tyler laid back down.

"What do you think everyone else is up to?" Lily asked from James's bed, propping herself up on her elbows.

"I bet they are all bored out of their minds, too," Shawn, James's other roommate, answered, his head turning red from hanging it upside down off his bed.

Albus smiled and sat up. "Let's play the _What Are the Grown-Ups Outside Saying_ game."

Gemini scooted his head a few inches so that his ear was close to the door. "I win." There was a moment of silence before he said, "They're talking about rubber ducks."

Everyone in the room looked at him.

"I'm not kidding." Gemini sat up. "Come listen for yourselves."

In moments, they were all crowded around the door, trying to push their ears to it in an attempt to hear the conversation.

"Even in his extreme old age, it was all he would go on about." It was Bill again. "Rubber duck theories and conclusions. He just blabbed on and on, non-stop."

"What is a rubber duck? Who would want a duck made of rubber?" The deeper, much more booming voice was unknown to the children.

"Muggles? I dunno. I hear they have some really strange things."

Though the other children were interested and intrigued by the conversation, Gemini giggled.

The conversation stopped suddenly, and they all quickly scrambled back to their positions as the door opened.

"Are you lot listening to our conversation, again?" Bill asked with a small smile. "I heard a giggle."

Gemini, eyes bright purple, explained, "the purpose of a rubber duck is for children to take a bath with. It's a toy they can play with. Usually, it has a little hole in the mouth they can squirt water out of, and it floats."

Though Bill and the other man were clearly taken aback, they smiled even bigger.

"I'm sure my dad would have loved to hear that. He was curious for so long."

Rose and Hugo laughed. "Bath toys?" Hugo asked.

Shawn crinkled his nose. "Why would anyone want a toy in the bath? Isn't bath time just for cleaning?"

Gemini shrugged, eyes dimming to their natural color. "I dunno. It's a rich kid thing, I think."

Bill nodded. The other man reached for the door handle and began to walk out.

"Wait!"

Both Bill and the other man looked to Albus.

"Is there any update on our dad, yet?"

The room fell silent. It was nearly four now, and their last update had told them about the exchange that had been at noon.

The other man replied, "no word, yet. But your father is very crafty. He once saved my life from a herd of hippogriffs trampling me to death without wands or weapons. All he did was bow." The man smiled. "I believe he can get out of anything."

With that, the two went back out into the hallway and shut the door behind them.

"Back on guard duty, then," Shawn said to no one in particular.

"Are we going to be on lock-down until all the Death Eaters are arrested or dead?" Tyler sighed. "Both will take a while."

James, who had been looking out the window again, smiled. "We won't need to wait much longer at all."

Everyone glanced up and saw what he was talking about: an unoccupied broom James's floating right by the window.

"It'll be _much_ easier if everyone could Accio their brooms, now." James turned around and stuffed his wand into the pocket of his robes. "I'm a skilled flyer, but I don't think I can carry all of you."

Everyone smiled but Rose, Albus, and Gemini, pulling out their wands and attempting the same command. In moments, Tyler, Shawn, and Lily's brooms were all floating there, waiting for their riders. Hugo had not managed anything, it seemed.

"We really shouldn't leave," Rose said.

"The point of being in our rooms is because it's safe here," Albus added. "If we leave, the Death Eaters could get us."

Gemini's eyes turned a muddy, deep mustard color. "At best, we would get in a lot of trouble."

"It's a safety hazard, James," Rose said, placing her hands on her hips. "We could all be killed."

Though he had been wearing a smug expression, James seemed to be considering what Rose was saying. His expression seemed to fall as he finally decided it was dangerous to leave.

"Alright, fine. Shawn, Tyler, and I will go out and pick up some stuff to keep us all entertained. The rest of you will stay here and be safe, alright?"

Lily huffed. "Not without me, no."

James turned to Lily. "Lil, you've got to stay here. I can't ensure that I can protect you out there on your broom while I'm on mine. You're safe here."

"I don't want to stay here," she replied quietly. She sounded just like their mom. "I can handle myself out there. Plus my broom is already out there."

"No, Lil." James's voice grew a bit sterner. "I won't let you go. The Death Eaters are more experienced, and they won't stop until they've got y-"

"James, did you see those ones that tried to get us the first time? They didn't even touch us."

"Lil, we caught them off guard and Gem-"

"I can handle myself, James. Just let me go."

"Lily," Albus interrupted. "you shouldn't go." Albus turned to face James. "And you shouldn't go, either. No one should go. We should all stay here, be safe, and not captured. It's what dad wants us to do, and it's what mom wants us to do, and it's what every professor, auror, witch, and wizard in Hogwarts right now wants us to do. If we leave, we are endangering ourselves, the other students, and most importantly, Dad." Albus stared sternly at James in silence. "Would you want a quick trip to get something fun turn into dad putting his life on the line, _again_? We don't need to do that to him, and you know that is _exactly_ what they want, James. They want us to get to Dad because without him they think they stand a chance."

The whole room was eerily quiet. No one dared speak, or even move. They let their minds muddle over what they had just heard, considering the bad things that could happen. It wasn't until Albus spoke again that the silence was busted.

"Put the brooms back."

James pulled out his wand and opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. After a moment, he said, "I don't actually remember how to put them back."

"Bring them inside, then," Rose said. "In case we need to make a grand escape."

James nodded. His roommates brought the brooms inside while he stared out the window, contemplating his responsibilities as the older brother. He wondered if he was really as competent as he was expected to be, and if maybe he needed to be more serious. Most of all, he wondered where his father was and if he would be ashamed to hear what he had almost done to his siblings.

* * *

"I don't understand. Are you sure this is supposed to work?" Hermione punched in the code to the telephone booth once more.

"Yes. I swear. Something must be wrong." Harry glanced around at all the people passing. It was very out of place for that phone booth to still be there amongst the new technologies that muggles had. Both he and Hermione were getting odd looks from the passers-by. It might have been because the booth was the only thing, save for a few people, that did not look charred. "Hermione, forget it. Let's find a new way in."

Hermione slammed the phone down back onto the receiver. "Alright." She huffed. "We've tried the toilets and the phone booth, twice. What else is there to try?"

"Got any Floo powder?" Harry asked, taking his glance away from a rather attractive male couple and looking to Hermione.

Hermione scoffed as she opened her purse. "Are you looking at pretty women?"

"What? No, I-I was just-" Harry's cheeks grew pink.

"Harry, you can look later. We have to save your ex-wife, first." Hermione removed a small, clay pot topped with a stopper from her purse. "Now we just need a fireplace."

Harry glanced about. "All of London looks like a fireplace."

"Well, unfortunately, all of London is not connected to the Floo Network." Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him into an alley to apparate. They arrived in her home, which was honestly more of a mess than Harry had ever seen it (though that was not saying much considering it was usually spotless).

Hermione tossed a bit of powder in and said, "The Ministry of Magic."

Both she and Harry stepped into the green flames, traveling with impressive speed until they landed in front of a rather plain building.

Hermione sighed. "Oh, Harry. This isn't the Ministry. We'll never get there."

Though he was sure Hermione was about to burst into tears or punch something, he couldn't help but stare at the building. Something seemed off about it, though it didn't appear out of place at all. The windows were all identical and had even spacing. The concrete was just as bland as the concrete they were standing on. The door was a rather unimpressive off-white and even appeared to be peeling a bit at the edges. So what was so odd about this building?

Harry glanced about and noticed it immediately. All the other buildings had dark, black marks along the sides, had portions that were caving in, and looked generally cooked. As he turned back to the building they had landed in front of, he noted that there was not a single bit of evidence there had been a fire. It was pristine.

"Hermione," Harry held out his hand to get her attention, but it seemed she had already noticed the lack of burning, too. She had walked closer to it, just barely touching the wall of it. A thin layer of the wall shimmered, as if the sun had moved and had decided to reflect off the dull grey, and then returned to normal once again.

"I think this is the Ministry, now." Hermione backed up and glanced about. "There are bushes along the sides."

Harry nodded, pulling out the wand he had taken from his encounter with the Death Eaters and tapping himself and Hermione on top of the head with it. If Dolores Umbridge was really here, then they needed to be as inconspicuous as possible, starting with a disillusionment charm.

Hermione grabbed Harry's invisible hand and together they walked alongside the building, checking the bushes.

"I do hope they haven't captured her," Hermione whispered. "Do you think maybe she moved away from the building?"

Harry shook his head, though he realized Hermione couldn't see him. "I don't think she would risk it. If she doesn't have any sort of wand, she probably wouldn't be able to conceal herself. How would she know they wouldn't see her and take her back?"

"I think she could defend herself pretty well," Hermione defended.

"I'm not saying she couldn't defend herself. She could, but she would probably know that she may not be successful and would end up back where she started."

"But Ginny-"

They both heard a crackle from the bushes.

They stopped moving and talking. Harry felt his arm be tugged down as Hermione crouched, attempting to see under the bushes for Ginny.

"Ginny," she whispered. "It's Hermione."

Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the part of the bushes he thought he had heard the sound from.

"How do I know?" a voice suddenly whispered back.

Hermione began, "Your birthday is August 11th. You have three children, all named after-"

"Better than that!" Ginny interrupted loudly.

Harry crouched next to Hermione and could see just barely the outline of Ginny's black work heels against the darkness of underneath the bushes.

"Nightmares of a man named Tom Riddle. Crying in my arms at night not because you were scared he would come back, but because you were scared someone would be able to control you again."

Ginny sat up. Harry could see the redness in her eyes that had dark bags hanging heavy under them, the skewed chaos of her hair that was once perfectly straight, the thin, pale lips that were once covered in peach lipstick and arguing with a lawyer for everything he once had. Her usually proud and strong shoulders were slumped in a way that created wrinkles in her grey suit jacket. Her cheeks were still rosy with a blush that extended over the bridge of her nose lightly. This was her on a bad day. And she was still so beautiful.

"Harry," she whispered. "Where are you?"

"Disillusionment charm." Without warning, he tapped her head, too.

"Harry!" Hermione whispered loudly. "You could've waited to lift her up, first."

"She can't walk?" Harry asked as Ginny disappeared from his view.

"Yes, her leg is turned at a bad angle. It looks broken. It would've been better to float her away, but you can't see her, now." Hermione reached out a hand to where Ginny had been. "Can you move it?"

"No, I can't. It hurts too much. Otherwise, I might've moved away from the building."

"Alright. I'm going to try to lift you then." Harry waddled awkwardly over to where he thought Ginny was. "Reach out a hand so I can find you."

Harry felt her hand reach out to his own. It was cold and shaky, so much unlike the fierce woman he had grown to love so long ago.

"Okay. I've got you." Harry followed her arm to her shoulder, and reached out his other hand, finding her knees and carefully wrapping his hand underneath.

"Ow, ow." She hissed quietly as Harry tried as gently as possible to lift her up.

Once he had her steady in his arms, he asked softly, "are you alright?"

"My knee is definitely busted."

"Hold on tight," Hermione said as she placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and disapperated.

They landed perfectly inside Padma's office where Neville and Luna were waiting.

Neville stood, wand at the ready. "I heard that. Who's there?"

"It's us, Neville. We've found Ginny." In an instant, Hermione had undone the disillusionment spells on them all.

"Fantastic!" Neville smiled. "I'll let the others know."

Hermione lifted all the papers and knickknacks off Padma's desk and Harry placed Ginny on it with caution. Harry didn't even see Neville's patronus leave as he looked over Ginny with care.

"Is it only your knee that hurts?"

"Well, I don't exactly feel like a field of daisies, but I can manage." Ginny turned her head to one side and took a shaky breath.

Luna popped up behind Harry, offering him his wand.

Harry took the wand gratefully. "Thank you, Luna."

"Harry, if you still love her, you should let her know. I'm sure she's been wondering." Luna gave a dreamy smile and walked away to Hermione, who was talking to Neville about what happened.

As he looked over Ginny, Harry couldn't imagine ever being with her again. She deserved so much more than him. He could never give her the love and independence she needed. She was strong, and could manage herself. She hardly needed Harry to be her hero.

"So," Ginny began. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Harry met her weak gaze.

"Do you still love me?"

After a sigh and a moment of silence, Harry replied, "Not in the way you deserve. Not in the way I used to."

Ginny lifted her head to look at him fully, letting her messy red hair fall off the desk. "How then?"

Harry thinned his lips. "Like I care about you. Like you are the mother of my children. Like you are beautiful and strong and unable to be anything but free."

Her pale lips gave half a smile. "Isn't that enough?"

He shook his head. "Not enough to stop myself from continuing the damage I've already done. Not enough to share everything with you. Not enough to want to marry you again."

Ginny's red eyes glistened and she let her head fall back to the side.

Suddenly Madam Pomfrey was there, tending to her, and Harry was backing away, watching as her pale skin was tinted with healing blue light. He was backing up, and then there was a door there. And he went out the door and down the hallway. And then he pulled out his wand and disapperated. And he was in a green field and he was running. He wasn't running fast, just away. He wanted to get away from his old self, the one that hurt Ginny and made her think that he was the one for her. He wanted to get away from the part of him that thought she was beautiful. Most of all, he wanted to escape from the part of himself that still cared for her.

The green field grew an edge, and Harry ran up to it and stopped. Over the edge was a cliff, tall enough to kill him, but he would land in more green field, with scattered wildflowers. Harry looked down at it, and then turned away, disapperating somewhere else.

He didn't know where until he was surrounded by blood red walls, black crown molding, black velvet lined mahogany bookshelves filled with loads of old books and ivory bookends, a molten silver ceiling, and an elegant chandelier. The library. Tom's library.

"I assume you are here to update me on what has been occurring." Draco spoke up behind him from a chair where he was reading. "I see you are alive."

"Yeah." Harry turned around. "Uh, I escaped. Fairly easily, I think. Wasn't too bad. I got Thomas under Imperious. Any day now we should see signs that his regime is falling."

"Excellent. Did you stab him in the eyes , like I suggested?"

Harry gave a small smile. "Yes, actually."

Draco tore his eyes away from his book. "Did he do that twitch where he tried to blink but couldn't?"

"Uh…no. I got him when his eyes were closed." Harry tried to avoid looking at Draco. He had the sudden remembrance of all those scars on his back and chest, and that holster…

"Very well, then. Did you find Ginny?" His eyes were drawn back down to his book.

Harry nodded. "Yes. She's safely in Hogwarts now being tended to by Madam Pomfrey."

"I assume that's why you are here, then."

Harry looked around the room. "I guess."

A few seconds passed in complete silence. Harry could hear his own breathing.

Tom emerged from his lab, then, startling Harry.

"Oh, Harry." Tom seemed surprised.

"Tom." Harry gave a pleasant smile. "Hi. I'm alive."

"I see." Tom's eyes glazed over Harry a moment. "I assume you have successfully carried out your plan, whatever that was."

Harry nodded. "Yep."

"He's trying to escape his ex-wife, who he just rescued," Draco added.

Tom's eyebrows rose. "Do you hate her?"

"What? No." Harry looked between the two Slytherins. They made it seem as if he had divorced her because they couldn't stand to be married anymore. That wasn't it. Was it? "I just…have some very complicated feelings about her right now."

Draco looked up quickly with surprise on his face. "You still lover her?!"

"I-I never said that!" Harry flushed.

"Clearly, you have some sort of reminiscent feelings for her," Draco yawned, "otherwise you'd hate her, or at least have answered with 'no'." Draco's eyes followed as Tom crossed the room and sat in the chair across from him, potion in hand.

"I don't love her." Harry replied softly. "But I don't hate her."

"You still care about her." Draco replied, sounding rather bored and rude. "She's your best friend's sister and your best friend's wife's best friend. You had kids with her. You have history. Of course you still love her. Just not romantically."

Harry was, of course, very confused by the rather rude guidance Draco was giving. How did he even respond?

"Okay." He looked between them uncomfortably. Draco was coming off as a bit of an ass, really. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to say anything else. Instead, he turned to the bookshelves.

There were hundreds of books to read. He could probably find something about Quidditch here somewhere…

As Harry walked down each isle, looking over the books, Tom watched him carefully. He studied the small details in expression that Harry gave off, as Tom had been doing in portrait form for months. Harry was clearly a large mix of emotions, as all of them tried to have control of his face. Tom could read his face much better than he had at first. He had a small wrinkle between his brows that indicated his frustration, and the slightest pink over his cheeks showed a fading embarrassment. His eyes seemed focused so intently on searching titles, but beyond that, they were distracted, and his lips were pressed together into a thin line as if he was thinking.

Tom felt eyes on his own face, and looked over to find Draco staring at him with one eyebrow arched, eyes peeking over the top of his book.

"Why are you staring?" Tom asked him quietly.

"Why are _you_ staring?" Draco's eyes flicked over to Harry and then back to Tom. Tom had seen that same shine in his eyes before. Draco was amused.

"I do _not_ need to explain myself."

The tops of Draco's cheeks rose to his eyes. He was smiling behind that book. "Then I'll just assume."

Tom furrowed his brows. "Assume what?" he hissed.

"That you've developed a fondness for Harry Potter and that's why you are staring." Draco's eyes resumed to scanning the page. "You like how he looks."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "You have never been so incredibly open to sharing your thoughts."

"This is what I've always been like. Just not to you when you were evil. How's it feel to no longer scare someone you used to terrify?" Draco flipped the page nonchalantly.

"Much like expecting to be a wizard yet being a useless muggle instead." Tom scowled and looked away.

Draco did not respond, which only served to make Tom angrier. He used to command rooms with fear alone. People had once not dared speak his name. He was the greatest evil wizard to ever have lived. And now he could not even do a lick of magic. Tom was so angry inside that he wanted to burst, but he was afraid of what emotion he would find underneath all the hatred and frustration. He didn't want to be so human.

Harry was beside him now, settling down in a chair with a very thin book in hand.

"I didn't know you could read, Potter." Draco spoke suddenly. "Or did you pick it for the pictures?"

Harry stopped moving and stared at Draco. "Why are you such a prat? Did I do something wrong?"

In an instant, Tom read over Harry's expression. His eyes were crinkled in the corners ever so slightly, as if he was angry, but at the same time, seemed more open, as if he was taken aback.

"He says he is always like this." Tom gave just a moment to scan over Harry once more before glaring at Draco accordingly. "I suppose it is how he treats those he deems inferior."

Harry shook his head. "No, his knickers are in a twist." He leaned over the table and stared at Draco with a stern expression. "What's wrong, then? I assume you won't let us be until we know."

Draco said nothing, but pulled his book from his face and set it down on the table. He didn't meet either of their eyes.

Tom sat back, letting a thought spread a thin smile over his features. "Begging for attention? You _are_ your father's son."

Draco's crystalline blue eyes narrowed in response.

"Well?" Harry said impatiently.

Draco took a slow, quiet breath, then replied, "I've qualms with you both, but I'd prefer to handle then separately." He turned to look at Harry. "Preferably alone."

Harry looked at Draco questionably. "Alone as in talk-to-me-first alone? Or alone as in I-should-leave alone?"

"Leave." Draco directed his attention to Tom, then.

Harry nodded awkwardly, but grabbed his book and headed out the library door.

"What _qualms_ do you have with me?" Tom's calm façade rested over his being. "I can't think of a single thing-"

"Harry. Do you actually like him?"

Tom took a moment to hold onto his calmness. "Do I what?"

Draco glared. "Like him. I see you staring at him. Studying him. Like he's a specimen."

After a moment, all Tom could manage in reply was, "Like?" He wasn't sure he understood the meaning in any sort of way that Draco seemed to be implying.

Draco scoffed. "I was just making fun of you for it. You like how he looks. You're fond of him. You are attracted to Harry Potter."

Though Tom projected an outward disgust at the idea, a part of him muddled it over. He was human now. And though fondness was something he had once felt for Nagini, he was not sure how it would feel now. But why would he be fond of Harry Potter? This was his worst enemy. This was the defeater of his regime. This man…

…had saved his life.

If Tom wasn't the Dark Lord anymore, was Harry really his enemy? If his regime didn't want him anymore, was it still his regime? And if it was no longer his, then Harry being the defeater of it was not so bad.

"Let me tell you something personal," Draco began. "Harry Potter is not one to fall for. Many have fawned over him, few have dated him. Only one has married him, and they were just divorced." He shook his head. "It doesn't last with Harry Potter. There is one thing that is important to him before anything else, and while most like to think that is saving people, I know it's being a hero. He wants nothing more than to save people and be famous, and he'll like you when he has the free time, but if and when you compromise his heroism, you don't matter to him anymore."

Draco sat back in his chair. The two stared at one another for a few silent moments.

"I most certainly do _not_ have a fondness for Harry Potter," Tom said at last.

"Not yet," Draco answered softly. "It never starts that way. But Merlin damned if it doesn't end up that way. Dark Lord or not."

Tom studied Draco curiously. "How do you know?"

Draco rose from his chair. "Experience."

In a moment, he turned and was gone from the library.

Draco glanced down the plain, empty hallway and saw Harry at the end, sitting in a rather uncomfortable-looking wooden chair. Draco just stood there a moment and watched as he turned the pages quickly, seeming to skim over many things. Was there nothing that was interesting to Harry Potter?

Slowly, Draco made his way down the hallway, and immediately, Harry looked up to see him there.

"I assume we're talking out here, then."

Draco nodded. He let himself be watched by Harry as he made his way into a similarly uncomfortable wooden chair beside him, keeping his eyes on the floor.

When their eyes met, Draco could feel all the thoughts he used to think about him return. He was a truly impressive creature, Harry Potter. How could he captivate everyone he met? Not necessarily in a romantic way, but captivate nonetheless. It wasn't how he looked, necessarily, but how he held himself. He held himself as if he was the Chosen One, with shoulders out and strong, as if braced for anything. His glasses were round and reflective, as if they were revealing all his eyes had seen together, in battle and in life. Why did he do this?

"I see how you look at me now." Draco broke eye contact briefly. "Like my shirt is invisible. Like all those scars are all I am."

Harry swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Draco glared at him fiercely. "Don't apologize. Stop it."

He stood and left just as quickly as he came, leaving Harry alone in a wooden chair in a plain room with a boring, picture-less book on the history of Quidditch; a book he thought he might've enjoyed, but found much emptier than it appeared to be.

 


	22. Crystal Eyes and Muttered Words

 

Gemini awoke in the dead of night to loud whispers outside the door. As closest to it, he took the liberty to scoot closer and listen, though he was still half-asleep.

"I'm glad he made it back with her. Any more news on the Death Eaters?"

"He's said he was able to cast an Imperious curse upon their leader. It all seemed very simple, really. You Know Who must be losing his touch."

"He stabbed _him_ in the eye?"

"No, no, their leader. Tom, or something. I think he meant that You Know Who is just a figurehead, a symbol to the Death Eaters. He's still dead. This group is just a radical faction."

"Radical, indeed. They were nearly successful. And they burned all of London."

"The healthiest aurors are currently working on fixing that. It's going to be back to normal in no time."

"And what about the students? Is it safe for school to start up again?"

"Headmistress Patil said certain classes will start up tomorrow, but there are still many professors protecting and investigating while the aurors cannot."

"I see. Do we tell them in the morning?"

"Yeah, when they wake. Only afternoon classes are going, I think. She said not to bother waking them early. Let them rest."

Gemini let his eyes fade back into the sleep they had left.

He awoke in the morning as if no time had passed at all, except now, he was no longer so sleepy.

Beside him, Albus rubbed his eyes and yawned. " _Merlin_. I can't sleep on the floor anymore. It makes me stiff." He sat up carefully.

"I heard them talking last night. We should be off lockdown this afternoon." Gemini sat up as well, smoothing out his mousy brown bed-head.

Albus smiled. "Wonderful. Then maybe I'll get to go to History of Magic and sleep in a different position."

They both laughed quietly, and waited for the others to rise and hear the good (or not so good) news. Things were beginning to look up, and they would finally be able to leave the room.

* * *

Hermione was talking with Luna and laughing. It had been a while since she had ever had such a fun conversation with her. It seemed, left and right, there had always been serious business to discuss recently.

"Oh, you did _not_!"

Luna smiled. "I did. I didn't want him to miss. What good of an attack would it have been if the knives were uncharmed?"

Hermione smiled. "Don't tell Harry that. I'm sure he thinks it was some heroic thing that he'd practiced."

"You what?" Asked Ginny, still sitting in the chair Madam Pomfrey had transfigured for her.

"Oh, you haven't heard yet," Hermione turned to look at her and scooted her chair towards her to be closer. "Harry gave himself to the Death Eaters in exchange for the aurors. He fought them all off muggle style. He strapped a bunch of little knives to himself and threw them at their leader, Thomas."

"Except he didn't know I charmed them while I was helping him put the holster on. They would have hit the mark no matter what." Luna gave a large, dreamy smile. "I had to be sure he would make it, and his practice was not going very well."

Hermione smiled, too. "Harry stabbed him in the eye and used the Imperious Curse on him. He's going to take out the Death Eaters from the inside, secretly. Next time we see him, he should be wearing an eye patch, like a pirate. You'll definitely know which one I'm talking about."

Ginny smiled. "Bloody brilliant. I'm glad the aurors are safe. How's Ron doing?"

Hermione's smile faltered. "He's…better." She looked to the hands in her lap. "I can't see him right now. He's getting special attention from Madam Pomfrey because he's not getting better as fast as he should be. She says they must have used some pretty powerful torture on him." Hermione wiped an eye. "He couldn't even open his eyes yet to see that I was there with him. But he kept whispering my name."

Ginny's face turned serious. "Is he going to be alright? What've they done to him?"

Hermione took a slow, shaky breath. "She's not sure, but she's doing her best."

"Ron is Head Auror. He did the most to stand up against the Death Eaters and protect his men," Luna said, placing a gentle hand on Hermione's back, smiling kindly. "He just needs more time to recover."

"I hope so." Hermione sniffled a bit, but shook her head. "I don't need to cry anymore. I feel like I've just cried all day and night."

"It's been quite an eventful day, Hermione. For everyone." Luna stood. "Actually, I think I'll go take a nap in the tent. Would you like to come along?" She held out a small, pale hand.

"No, but thank you, Luna. You've been excellent at cheering me up." Hermione gave a small, sad smile.

"Very well then," Luna replied as she made her way inside the tent, where Neville was already napping.

A few moments of silence passed over the room as all the whirring toys had stopped, and all the knickknacks rested, awaiting the return of the Headmistress.

"Hermione, can I ask you something?" Ginny looked out the window.

"Of course. What do you need?" Hermione dabbed at her eyes a moment.

"Do you think Harry still loves me?" Ginny didn't want to look at Hermione. She was afraid she would cry, too.

Hermione sighed. "I'm not sure, but I do know that you two should not be together anymore. I've heard your stories. And though I really do care for Harry, he has treated you like you are not even half the woman you really are." She shook her head, allowing rogue curls to fall over her face. "It shouldn't matter if he still loves you or not. You should decide not to love him anymore. He hurt you in ways you never thought he would. And you should forgive him, but don't let him do it again."

Ginny breathed deeply. "You're right. As always." She gave a small smile.

Hermione scooted her chair even closer and carefully placed her hand on Ginny's bruised arm. "He's like all the superheroes he has tried to show you from muggle movies. They aren't allowed to have people they're close to. Not just because the bad guy could use them to get to them, but because they've devoted their life to saving others, and all he wants in return is to know that everyone is safe." Ginny met Hermione's gaze. Both had such sad eyes. "Harry is a legend, Ginny. A hero. That's what he wants, and he knows that, because of that, he can't give you what you want."

She sighed. "I know. I think I've always known. He broke up with me the first time for some noble reason. Makes sense that he should do it again." Her head fell back onto the top edge of the back of the chair. "Why is he so bloody noble?"

"He was born into it, Ginny." Hermione removed her hand and sat back in her chair. "It's all he has ever known since he moved away from his muggle relatives."

"When did Madam Pomfrey say I would be better?" Ginny looked down at the straightening contraption on her leg.

"She said a few more hours. Too many bones broken to do all the spells at once."

Ginny groaned. "But I'm starving."

Hermione stood. "Then I'll float you down to the house elves. I'm sure they'd whip you up something if you ask."

Ginny smiled. "Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione grinned and lifted Ginny with her wand, beginning their way to the Hogwarts kitchens.

Along the hallways of Hogwarts, there was now a splattering of wanted posters, all the same. Hermione walked up to one in the middle of a small cluster.

"Wanted: Thomas, leader of Death Eaters" it read, and showed a moving picture of the man Harry had talked to during the exchange: a Caucasian man with a long, thin face, pointed chin, and wispy, dull brown hair that reached past his ears, curled in some places and not in others, and thin lips that curved into a wide, creepy smile again and again. Over one of his eyes Hermione had honestly not paid much attention to his eyes before now had an unmistakable eye patch over one with a symbol: a white lightning bolt with a diagonal, red line through it. His other eye was brown and wide, only adding to his crazy appearance.

"Ginny, this is him!" Hermione floated Ginny closer so she could see.

Ginny's eyes widened a bit.

Hermione shook her head. "He looks like a scary clown in this picture." Hermione didn't want to see his smile anymore, but couldn't look away.

"He might be missing a few bolts…" Ginny turned her head a bit to the side. "Then again, he is a follower of You Know Who. Like a Bellatrix Part II."

Both girls couldn't help but stare into the eyes of the man, as if they were trying to tell them something. His lips moved ever so slightly at the end of the loop, as if he was going to say something to them, but never got to it.

"Hermione," Ginny tried to pry her eyes away. "Who put up these posters?"

"I don't know…" Hermione continued to stare deeper into the poster, into the man's eyes. "But something isn't right.

"I don't have my wand." Ginny couldn't tell if Hermione was listening. "Hermione! Send a message to Harry! This isn't right."

Hermione couldn't help but watch again and again as Thomas's lips curled into a smile that screamed " _You are wrong! I've got you now!"_ and she knew something was wrong, but she couldn't stop.

"Hermione! Hermione! Someone! Help!" Ginny cried out, flopping her arms about her, though it was painful. In moments, she fell to the floor, eyes ripped from the posters just long enough to break the trance.

She rubbed at a shoulder but glanced about quickly. "Hermi-" she began, but stopped when she discovered Hermione was gone, no trace left of her.

* * *

On patrol in front of Ravenclaw tower was Professor Portia Hampsafe. Professor Hampsafe looked nothing like her much older cousin, Sybil, but they lived together in a two-bed room at Hogwarts. Sybil Trelawney was growing old and senile (at least, that's what everyone was telling her). Though she did not want to retire like the many other professors did after the war was over, her constant ramblings were seen as a sign that she had let her "seeing eye" get the best of her. Portia had done her best to look after her while living alone in her own house, but finally decided living with Sybil was probably best for her health.

After all this mess with the Death Eaters, Sybil kept babbling on about something, talking so fast and out of control that Portia often made her some chamomile tea in an attempt to calm her. Sometimes it did, other times, it did not. Today, it had not done so much as even relax one hair on her frizzled brown head. The thought of her alone in their room made Portia worried.

"I'm sorry, Roger. I've got to check on her again. Is it alright if I go?"

Professor Davies nodded. "Should be fine. No worries."

Portia nodded back and lightly jogged back to their room just a couple halls down. Once outside the door, she could hear Sybil shouting, spouting random words in no specific order.

"The boy! A patch! Patch of black! A snake! No, _a dragon!_ A dragon of fire! Get that boy a cloak!"

Portia came in and instantly began using her soft, calming voice. "Sybil, it's alright. The boy has a cloak. He's safe."

Sybil eyes went to Portia, but seemed to look through her. "The cloak? He's got the cloak?"

"Yes, Sybil. He's got the cloak." Portia went over and smoothed her hair down, attempting unsuccessfully to remove the clusters of knots caught inside it. "Do you want me to make you some more tea, Sybil?"

Sybil raised her arms and shook them in the air. "Tea? No tea. The patch! They've got to see it! Why can't they see it?"

Portia pulled Sybil's arms back down to her sides. "I'm going to make you some tea. The kind you like, that smells like lavender, yeah?"

"No sleepy tea?" Sybil gave quick glances about her, as if she were surrounded.

"No sleepy tea. Just lavender tea. You're favorite." Portia went over the tiny kitchen and popped a kettle of water she had already prepared onto the stove.

"Lavender tea helps my predictions!" Sybil laughed in her misty, ethereal voice. "I'll see the patch! The very air!"

Portia nodded. "You sure will, Sybil."

Sybil cackled a bit. "The very air! The very airy air!" She gasped loudly, causing Portia to jump a bit. "But the man! The patch! I've got to see it! Before the fire! The patch!"

"Just a moment, Sybil. The water's almost done." Portia turned and heard the whistling begin. She took the two cups from the sink and rinsed them out. Placing one tea bag in each, she poured water into each cup. "Sugar this time, Sybil?"

"No! Sugar clouds the senses! I must see!" Sybil raised her hands to her forehead. "The patch!"

Portia carefully walked the cups to the table and set them down, one on each side. "Come, then, Sybil. It's ready."

Sybil made her way to the table and sat carefully down at the table. "Yes…the tea." She picked up the cup gently and inhaled. "Ah, lavender."

Portia smiled. "Your favorite."

"It helps my Inner Eye." Sybil took a small sip. "Ah, the fog being lifted!" She took another, much longer sip.

"Careful, Sybil. It's still hot," Portia reminded her gently between blowing on her own tea.

Sybil put her cup down, eyes so far off in the distance, Portia wasn't sure she was in the room at all. Portia watched her, making sure she would return to the real world in a moment, as she always did.

"Oh no," Sybil whispered.

"What is it?" Portia asked. "Sybil?"

"Oh no. _Oh no_ , _oh no._ " Sybil stood suddenly and yelled, "the patch! It's not real!" She grabbed tightly onto the edge of the table, knocking over and spilling her cup of tea, the bangles on her arms chiming as they hit one another.

"Sybil? Are you alright?" Portia carefully set her tea down and stood.

"The patch is not real! It's fake! The boy! The fire! Someone's got to tell the boy! Of the man!" Sybil turned her head and looked straight into Portia's eyes. "His father."

Portia, taken aback, tried to step back but instead fell back into her chair. "What?"

"His father! Ha!" Sybil released the table and began to skip across the room, scarves shimmering, bangles and chains clinking. "Oh he's got a father! At last!" After a moment, she stopped, and simply stood facing away from Portia.

"Sybil, what father? You've never talked about a father before." Portia watched her cousin carefully. Always it had been the boy, the patch, the fire, the dragon, sometimes even the man when she was really worked up. But a father?

"His love is like the patch." Sybil looked at her hands. "It isn't real." Suddenly, she turned to face Portia. "The patch isn't real! Someone must know! The patch!" She began jumping and screaming the words, "Not real! Not real!"

"Sybil!" Portia held out a hand. "Do calm yourself."

Trelawney stopped jumping and glanced at the door. "Albus. I must tell Albus."

Portia sighed. "Albus Dumbledore is dead, Sybil. You know that."

"Dead?" Sybil looking confused. "Dead, yes, but responsible. I must tell him." In moments, she had crossed the room and opened the door.

"Sybil, no!" Portia reached out to hold her cousin inside the room.

"Stay here, dear cousin." Trelawney suddenly pulled out her wand and flicked Portia back into the room to gently land on the couch. "I will return after I talk with Dumbledore."

She slammed the door and ran down the hallway, jingling and murmuring to herself. "The patch. It's not real. Not real."

She ran all the way to the Headmistress's office entrance and banged on the walls. "Open! I beg you! I must speak with Albus Dumbledore!"

Portia finally caught up to her. "Sybil! Come now, let's go back to the room," she said, breathless from all the running.

Sybil continued to pound on the wall with her hands. "Open! I must speak with Albus!"

Portia sighed. "Adam's Apple."

The entrance to the office opened and the stair case began to spiral. Sybil smiled large and began to jog up the stairs yelling, "Albus! Albus!"

Portia slowly followed her up to the office, where she was found talking to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

"Albus! The patch! It isn't real! That's why I couldn't see it."

Neville, who had been watching over the tent while Luna napped, was now watching her confused, asking Portia, "What's she doing? Is she alright?"

Portia nodded. "Just got out of the room. She's very excited for some reason, and I've been trying to calm her. She wanted to talk to Dumbledore."

The portrait Dumbledore nodded, his eyes seeming to twinkle even through the canvas. "I see. Dear Sybil, what else have you discovered?"

Trelawney raised her arms high above her head. "The man is the boy's father!"

"Quite interesting." Dumbledore fixed his crescent spectacles. "Do you know _who_ the boy is, exactly? I suppose that is an important piece."

Sybil's arms fell down to her sides and her excitement seemed to drain. "No. Not yet."

Dumbledore nodded. "I see. Well, it is some very captivating news. Thank you, Sybil."

She bowed her head and pulled her hands together by her chest. Her body that had just been so lively and vibrant now seemed so small, as if being swallowed by all the chains and scarves she wore. "The dragon of fire," she mumbled to herself. "The boy of air. The man, his father." She turned to Portia. "May I have some more tea?"

Portia smiled and nodded. "Of course, Sybil. What kind would you like?"

Sybil let her thin, frail arms fall to her sides. "The sleepy tea, please." She began to shuffle to the door.

"Of course, dear. Let's go down and I'll make us some Chamomile." Portia held the door open so a slowing Sybil. "Then you can take a nice nap afterwards."

"Nap," Sybil muttered to herself as she made her way to the door. "Sleepy tea."

"That's right," Portia added. "Sleepy tea." She smiled and waved at Neville, closing the door behind them and following an aging Sybil Trelawney down the stairs to make some tea.

"It's not real," Sybil muttered. "The eye patch on the man isn't real."


	23. Hidden in Plain Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING** This chapter (specifically) contains graphic depictions of torture.

 

Harry scrambled up the stairs to Padma's office, nearly running into the door before he opened it.

"Harry!" everyone seemed to say in unison as he stepped through the door-frame.

All the volunteers that could possibly fit were all standing around the room, worried looks painted on their faces, except for Ginny, who sat in a chair looking quite angry.

"They took Hermione!" Ginny yelled.

"How could they even manage that?" Neville looked about.

"Clearly, someone put up those posters to try and steal us away," Padma replied.

"But who put up the posters?" Draco pressed his hands into the desk in front of him.

"The alarms never went off," Professor Davies added. "It wasn't an infiltration of any kind."

"Could it have been someone on our side?" Harry stepped forward, joining into the conversation.

"Hogwarts doesn't necessarily count it as an intruder if they were already inside and didn't use any sort of malicious magic," answered Padma.

"But that doesn't mean there isn't a traitor among our ranks," Davies said.

"Are you suggesting that our aurors and professors are disloyal, _Roger_?" asked Attica Bones.

"Professor Bones, I understand that loyalty seems to be everything," Theodore responded, "but it honestly isn't so difficult to assume that there is a traitor who is undercover as one of us that snuck the posters in."

"Maybe it's easy to understand a _Slytherin_ betraying us," Dennis Creevey began, "but members of the other houses would never betray their friends during such a crucial time. It _had_ to be a deat-"

"So only Slytherin House could be responsible." Theodore shook his head. "What is it with everyone labeling us as the evil house? It's not the only place evil spawns from."

"Name _one_ bad guy from another house!"

"One? I can name several! Peter Pettigrew! Quinius Quirrell! Not to mention all the bad guys that came from other schools! Gellert Grindelwald! Wan-"

"Those don't count! We're discussin-"

"How dare you infer that this is all our-"

Everyone began talking at the same time, interrupting one another and yelling more and more.

"Even if they didn't get someone to put up the posters!" Ginny yelled, louder than everyone else, drawing silence. "It's possible that the Death Eaters just got the information they needed to put up the posters."

Harry's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Ginny glanced about the room, "if they had the plan to do this all along, all they needed was to figure out a way to get the posters into Hogwarts. It didn't necessarily have to be a traitor. Not sure if that's worth the risk after what happened with Snape." Ginny glanced at Harry, then back to the crowd. "So instead they had to force the information out of someone. Why else would they steal the aurors? They might've made us think it was a fair trade, but they already got what they needed from them and were basically giving them back." Ginny's face suddenly fell, realizing just what she had said.

Everyone was silent still. The light from the window was beginning to grow lower and lower in the sky. Padma shook her head at last.

"I can't believe I have to say this, but I have to continue to cancel classes."

"Why not just send them home?" Attica asked.

Roger Davies shook his head. "That would put all the children at risk. Hogwarts is the safest place there is right now, with the exception of those posters."

"If those posters are here, where else are they?" Dennis asked.

"How do we even get rid of them?" Theodore added.

Everyone chatted amongst themselves a moment. Harry looked around the room.

"Like it's a basilisk."

Everyone quieted and turned their attention to him.

"A what?" Padma asked.

"A basilisk!" Ginny exclaimed with a smile. "We need mirrors!"

"And preferably a weapon that can only grow stronger from what it's attacking." Harry smiled. "Like the sword of Gryffindor. Just an example."

"Or just a basilisk fang," Draco replied. "That poison should work wonders."

Harry nodded. "Right then. Who wants to go into the Chamber of Secrets with me?"

No one seemed to say anything.

"How are you going to get in? You can't speak snake anymore," Draco pointed out.

Harry thought a moment. "Good point. I'll be right back." In a second, he apparated, arriving in the beautiful library of Tom's house.

"Tom!" he yelled. Harry looked about him and saw no one. He ran into the hallway and looked around again. "Tom! Are you here?"

Tom Riddle opened a door at the end of the hallway with groggy eyes, hair still uncombed, and wearing his sleeping clothes. "Potter, why must you always interrupt my sleep?"

Harry just smiled. "Sorry, not really that sorry. We need your help. Can you still speak snake? I mean, Parseltongue."

Tom's face was vacant, as if he was still actually asleep. "I do not know. It has been some time since I have attempted-"

"Then let's try today!" Harry grabbed Tom by the arm and apparated back to Padma's office. "Alright. I've got someone willing to try their best. Anyone else?"

Ginny raised her hand.

"Uh, no. You should be resting. You have broken bones." Harry shook his head.

"They should be fully healed by now. I'm fine. I'll go." Ginny made an effort to stand.

"Ginny," Luna piped up quietly from the corner of the room, where she had been silently standing. "You'll only slow Harry down. It wouldn't do him much good to lug around two people unable to do magic."

Tom's eyes grew angry and rose to look at Luna, grogginess apparently gone. "I am the only person who might have the ability to speak Parseltongue. I will _not_ be lugged around." He glanced around at the others in the room. They stared oddly at him. Clearly, they did not know who he was.

"Who else is going to go with you?" Ginny put a slight weight onto her injured leg. "Ron can't, and I'm the only other one who can handle you and your suicide missions."

"I'll go." Neville stepped forward. "Ginny, you should rest. Luna is right. It'll be faster if you stay and rest."

"I think three is good," Padma said. "The rest of us will continue patrol over the houses, ensuring the students do not leave for any reason whatsoever."

Harry nodded, but instead of making his way to the door, as everyone else seemed to be doing, he walked over to Ginny standing in front of her chair, full weight on her two legs.

"Ginny," Harry's gaze fell into hers, "go protect the children. Make sure they know not to leave, and not to go near any posters, if there happen to be some in their room or outside their window. Keep them out of trouble." He gently held her cheek with one hand. "And don't let anyone tell you that you can't."

Ginny nodded. Harry pulled his hand away, turned, and left the room. He had wanted to kiss her. But he didn't. He wouldn't do that to her.

With Neville and Tom following behind him, they left for the first floor girls' bathroom.

* * *

Pain shot through her arm once more, causing her whole body to tremble and scream in a hoarse voice. She wanted to cry, but all her tears seemed to be spent. She couldn't see herself, but she could feel the blood that covered half her body, thick and warm and fresh. For a while now, her head felt so light; she had been waiting to pass out for hours, but still hadn't. She begged for it. The calm, unfeeling darkness was like a haven in her mind. They could no longer do this to her there. She'd be safe for some time.

"No! _No!_ " She heard from the hallway she had entered through a long time ago. She couldn't be sure how long she had been there. It seemed like weeks. Could have been months. All the times she had been down here seemed to blur together.

She tipped her eyes away from the ceiling where she had been begging for mercy and looked towards the hall.

"Oh look. A new friend to play with," said the man, with a creepy smile growing larger on his ever bloodstained face. He picked up his towel and wiped off red from the small knives.

She watched as another female entered, struggling far more than she had ever seen anyone struggle. The girl's bushy brown hair was in the faces of the guards, and she wondered how they were breathing under it. Maybe that was the girl's intention? She wasn't sure it was good enough.

"Ah, Hermione…" the man said, "why struggle? Why not just accept it, like Amayra here?"

Amayra Gamp. That wasn't her name. Why did he call her that? She could remember her own name. It was Janet Baker. But she had learned better than to speak up about her real name.

"No! _Stop it!_ " Hermione seemed to writhe, though no one was doing anything to harm her. She wondered why Hermione would do that. That wouldn't help her escape.

"Oh look at that! The stories are true…" Thomas rolled up her sleeve a bit more when she relaxed. "You _were_ branded by Ms. LeStrange."

The guards chained her up to the wall and quickly left the room. Janet didn't blame them. She didn't want to see this either.

"What do you want with me?" Hermione asked, breathless. "Where'd your accent go?"

"Oh, you've caught me," he said, hands up with palms out by his head. " But what else could I possibly want?" Thomas smiled, thin and bearing lots of teeth.

Hermione blinked rapidly, as if trying to get something out of her eyes. "Where is your eye patch?"

"Oh, you noticed. What a pleasant surprise. You shouldn't be able to focus on my eyes at all." Thomas walked away to his other knives, looking them over. "There's a wonderful glamour over them that should draw you to look away." He placed the knife in his hand down carefully and picked up a longer, thinner one.

"Why? Why wear a glamour?" Hermione struggled against her chains.

"Oh dear, naïve Hermione." Thomas slowly walked over to her, spinning the knife in his hands. "Brightest witch of her age, and yet doesn't even know what a glamour is for." He shook his head and clicked his tongue.

Janet didn't want to watch. She didn't want to watch, but she knew if she looked away for even a moment, Thomas would know. He always knew. Then, she wouldn't see the light of day for so much longer. She didn't even understand what they were talking about.

"I know what it's for, but why? What've you got to hide?"

Thomas smiled deeply. With practiced ease, he flicked the tip of the knife against her arm, underlining the word _mudblood_. "Honestly, can't do much better than what has already been done. Marvelous penmanship, by the way. _Magnifique_!" He chuckled to himself.

Hermione squinted and blinked, trying harder and harder to concentrate on his eyes, regardless of her pain. Thomas did not seem to appreciate her ignoring her torture.

His smile faded into a scowl, and he took the thin knife and thrust it into the line he had created, as far in as it would go.

Hermione let out a blood curdling scream. It echoed down the hallway and all throughout the chamber, rattling Janet's bones, making her stomach churn and her ears ring.

"Much better." Thomas removed his hands, watching as its heavy hilt slowly pulled the knife out of her arm. He watched with a grin as Hermione struggled and made exclamations of pain. He enjoyed this; Janet knew that much. He was such a sick person, if he could even be called a person.

After a moment, the knife fell out completely, hitting the ground with a metallic chime and a dull thud.

Hermione was now crying and whispering things under her breath. The blood from her wound poured out of her, creating a trail down her arm to her fingers, leaving a puddle at her feet.

"What are you whispering? Is it a prayer? Do you believe in God?" Thomas raised his eyebrows. Just like magic, another knife flew into his hand, and he stabbed it wholeheartedly into her shoulder. "I am your God now," he said softly as Hermione exclaimed.

He removed the knife, listening gladly as she whimpered, more blood spilling onto her body.

"What do you think, Amayra? Tell her what you now think of her silly little God."

Janet opened her mouth, attempting to speak, but finding her throat could not manage much other than a really scratchy, "Dead."

"Precisely," Thomas said. He suddenly put his face very close to Hermione's. "Now tell me, what am I?" When Hermione said nothing, he stabbed the knife into her other shoulder. "What am I!"

Hermione cried out once more. After a moment, she muttered something.

"What was that?" Thomas dug the knife in a bit deeper. "I don't think Amayra could quite hear you."

Hermione had tears streaming down her face. Janet knew the tears were probably stinging her shoulder wounds, the way they rolled down her face and neck. "You are my God!" she yelled at last.

Thomas smiled cruelly. "Yes I am."

* * *

Harry had taken out more posters than he could count. It was like the things were multiplying, covering entire walls in some parts of the castle. Tom, Neville, and Harry had been attacking them with very old swords and mirrors; so far, being cut into pieces seemed to take away the power of the posters.

While the trip to the Chamber of Secrets had been far from a success, Harry was glad for all the decaying skeletons there that died with their weapons. Though Tom got them in, there was not anything left of the mouth of the basilisk. The whole thing had broken down, not even leaving them a skull. Tom explained that the venom likely caused the skeleton to break down faster. No one was particularly thrilled about it, but they formed a Plan B. Harry, though stressed, had smiled when he discovered that by using a mirror, he was not trapped in the gaze of the first poster he had chopped into pieces.

Now, they had taken down at least twenty hallways worth of posters, not bothering to slow down for even a moment. Their attacks had a rhythm now; they'd run together until they saw a hallway filled with posters, then they'd run in, slicing each poster in half twice, Harry aiming for the high ones, Neville on the opposite wall getting the ones in the middle, and Tom slicing the bottom ones on the same wall as Harry; like clockwork, they'd switch walls and slice until all the posters were rubbish, and then move to the next hall.

Harry had just spotted another hallway filled and had begun leading the way to attack it when he heard a faint whispering in his ear. He stopped suddenly and listened intently, but couldn't quite make out the words.

"Can you hear that?" he asked the others.

There was a moment of pure silence. Neville and Tom could hear the blood pumping fast through their veins.

"Hear what, Harry?" Neville looked about them. "It's quiet."

Harry closed his eyes, trying to tune in his ears to the sound. He barely caught the end trailing consonants of words. With one hand, he motioned for them to come closer. "I think it's in my ear," he whispered.

Neville put his ear to Harry's ear. "I hear it," he whispered back. "What's it saying?"

They both stood in silence, unable to understand the words.

"Tom, how good are your ears?" Harry whispered.

Tom sighed inwardly. He hadn't signed up for any of this. He thought to himself about why he was doing this arduous task, going about in his night clothes, for Harry Potter, of all people. He did not particularly like all this running they had done. Now they wanted him to listen to the voice in Harry's head?

"If I had a wand, and magic, I would amplify it." Tom rested his arm holding the sword. "Clearly, the pair of you do not have the brains to use your magic properly."

Harry opened his eyes and asked, "Is that possible?"

Neville pulled out his wand. "Worth a try. _**Sonorus**_ **.** "

Harry jumped as the voice began to yell, still in his ear.

"Harry, he's got me!" Hermione's voice boomed, "I'm in a torture chamber somewhere! He faked the whole exchange! His eye patch isn't even real! He's hiding something about his eyes with a glamour! Think about his eyes! Harry, he's got me! I'm in a torture-"

" _ **Quietus**_." Neville yelled.

Harry covered his ear with a hand as it began to ring.

"It's Hermione!" Neville yelled.

Harry held out his other hand in an attempt to quiet him, which worked. After a moment of quiet, Harry let his hand fall from his ear.

"She's trapped, but she didn't tell us where she was," Harry said softly.

"It is likely that she does not know," Tom said at normal volume, causing Harry to visibly tense. He seemed to stare into nothing. "I imagine the image on the posters uses a kind of portkey to transport the lookers straight to Thomas."

Neville nodded in agreement. "To rescue her, we'll probably have to go through a poster as well."

"She said there was a glamour he's doing. Hiding something about his eyes?" Harry said, almost at normal volume.

"His eye patch isn't real. The exchange was fake?" Neville scratched his head.

Harry gave a nod. "Ginny did say they probably gave the aurors back because they didn't need them anymore. It's not too hard to believe that the whole operation was a fake. Thomas probably wasn't even there. A double, likely, or someone glamoured to look like him." Harry looked to Tom. "What's he trying to hide?"

Tom was lost in thought. _Hiding something about his eyes? How did I not even notice? Why? He was such a proud thing about his eyes when he was a child…_

"Tom." Harry looked the man up and down. Clearly, he had information to offer them. "Tom!"

Tom's eyes suddenly returned to reality. "What?" he snapped.

"What is Thomas trying to hide about his eyes?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure," Tom lied. His thoughts continued to bother him behind a mask of focus.

Harry narrowed his eyes, but a distant shriek called their attention.

Without a second's hesitation, Harry and Neville ran towards the shriek, Tom following shortly after. Thoughts danced about Harry's head as he attempted not to recognize the sound. He hoped for his life that it wasn't something he hadn't heard in his nightmares nearly every night he slept that summer.

They heard a commotion, and then a thud as they drew nearer. Harry sprinted ahead, feeling his instincts kicking in. His feet carried him all the way as fast as they'd go, and then stopped on a dime as he arrived.

"Lily!"

"Dad?" Lily looked up from where she had landed on the floor. There were tears in her eyes.

"Mr. Potter!" Gemini yelled. Both children went and hugged Harry.

"What happened?" He asked as Neville and Tom arrived behind him.

"They broke in to our room!" Lily began, speaking incredibly fast. "A whole wall blew up! Mom told us to run so we were running and she was running too and she told us to hold hands, but my hand slipped out of Albus's and they disapperated without us so we ran and hid and we ran into these posters and it tried to get me!" Fresh tears broke from her eyes.

Neville asked, "How'd they break in to Hogwarts? I thought we took care of the-"

"They could be using the posters. Maybe it works two ways." Harry glanced about the hallway quickly. "There's no way the three of us will be able to get them all quickly enough." He turned around to Neville. "Will you take my children to the office? Put them in the tent. Call the others, tell them what happened."

Neville nodded and walked over to the children.

"Wait!"

Everyone turned to stare at Tom, who was staring intently at Gemini. He crept closer, overlooking his features and thinking about the similarities.

"Is this the boy you spoke of, Harry?" Tom didn't bother to look away when Gemini's eyes turned a bright, neon green.

Harry's brows furrowed. "How'd you know?"

Tom continued to stare. "Those eyes are not your _real_ color, are they?"

Gemini took a small step backwards. "Mr. Potter?"

"Tom, what are you doing?" Harry watched, confused and concerned.

"Answer me." Tom gazed deeply into the boy's eyes, as if he could see if he looked hard enough. Gemini shook his head, eyes turning yellow. "Show me your real eyes."

"Tom, you're scaring him." Harry grabbed Tom's shoulder and pulled him backward. Tom, though clearly offended, said nothing. Harry bent down and looked at Gemini with concern and care. "No need to be afraid of Tom. He couldn't harm a fly. He just needs to learn some better ways of communicating." Harry gave a quick side glance back. "Could you show him your eyes? He thinks it's important."

After some hesitation, Gemini nodded. With one quick blink, he's eyes were once again two different colors one brown, one blue.

Tom's eyebrows rose. "His father's eyes," he said softly.

Harry turned to look at Tom. "His what?"

"He has his father's eyes." Tom continued to stare at Gemini. " _That_ ," he gestured at Gemini with a hand, "is what he is hiding."

After a moment, both Harry and Neville understood. Harry glanced back to Gemini and looked him over, as if understanding him a bit better.

"Mr. Potter," Gemini's eyes fell back to yellow. "What's he talking about?"

Harry's lips parted, trying to find the words to explain the situation to Gemini.

"Your father is the man in charge of the Death Eaters." Tom smiled snidely. "And we're going to try to kill him."


	24. Rescused and Left

 

Gemini had never had a father before.

He had lived his life, wondering if he would ever even get one. Every single day of his life at the orphanage, he had wanted to be adopted. He had gotten it in his head that no one had wanted him. He was uncontrollable, and weird. The ladies at the House were mean to him, and the kids stayed away from him. Even so, it was hard to believe that his parents hadn't wanted him. It was easier for him to think they were dead, or never even existed. No one had ever told him otherwise.

Until now.

Gemini sat in the tent next to Lily, watching the lights from the outside sway, this way and that, ever so slightly. He wasn't really paying attention. He was more focused on the fact that his father not only existed, but was the villain that seemed to have the whole Wizarding World pinned down, ready to conquer it all.

"I really don't like Tom," Lily said suddenly, trying to break Gemini from his trance. She had tried several times before, to no avail. She hoped Gemini would voice something, even if it was just agreement.

"He's odd." Gemini thought about what he said. Tom _was_ odd, wasn't he? Gemini called himself odd nearly every day. "Being odd isn't something worth being disliked for."

"It's more than him acting odd." Lily gave a side-glance at Gemini. "He was just rude. The way he was…it was like he was trying to make you feel bad."

Gemini shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time. And it won't be the last time." He took to staring and thinking once more.

Lily sat silently a moment, unsure of what to reply. "Well…" she began, trying to keep Gemini's attention from the thoughts he had been trapped in for the last hour. "That's such a terribly negative thing to say, Gemini. How do you know someone is going to try to make you feel bad?"

With a sigh, Gemini looked down at his lap where his hands lay. "There's always people trying to make others feel bad. Even those people have people who try to make them feel bad. If we didn't have people to make us feel bad, how would we know how good it feels to feel good?"

She pushed her tiny lips together. After a few seconds, she muttered "That doesn't give anyone the right to tell someone who their father is and say everyone is trying to kill him."

Gemini shook his head. "They _should_ kill him, Lily."

Wide-mouthed, Lily gaped at Gemini. " _What?_ But he's your dad!"

Gemini shook his head once more. "I haven't even met him. For one reason or another, he put me into an orphanage. He worked for the Dark Lord and now he's trying to take over the world. Even if he had intentions to mend thing with me, I don't care. He's evil and there's no stopping that." Gemini moved to lay down on his back and stare up at the ceiling of the tent. He said much quieter, "Some bullies have to be stopped at all costs."

Lily leaned over Gemini, her long red hair falling around his face, and looked into his eyes. "Gemini, I've no idea how it feels to not have a dad and then suddenly figure out he's the most evil villain in the Wizarding World, but I do know what it's like to feel like everything is different all at once." She pulled her hair to one side. "When my parents got divorced, it was like my life was split in two. I thought I would never get to see my dad again. I felt like I was alone and it was all my fault. But you know what?" Lily gave a small smile. "I had two brothers that were there for me. We made a promise to each other that we would always be there for each other, no matter who else there was."

With a frown, Gemini replied, "I don't have brothers. At least, I don't think I do."

Lily sat back up, forcing Gemini to turn his head to the side to see her. "Well, I'll be there for you, Gemini. I don't know how much I can help, but I can listen. Don't think that you have to deal with it all by yourself."

Though Gemini did not let his mouth move from its frown, his two colored eyes turned a soft tan. "What for?"

"Because you're my friend," Lily said simply.

At the thought, Gemini let a smile grow on his face. "Really?"

Lily smiled big, trying to hide her teeth so as to stop a rogue giggle. "Of course." _What a silly question_ , she thought. But it occurred to her a moment later that he may not know what having a friend feels like.

Before even thinking about it, Lily moved to lay beside Gemini. "Tell me: what are you thinking about?"

Gemini turned his gaze to Lily. He felt a warm feeling inside him, like maybe he might actually answer Lily honestly. She was his friend. That was _two_ friends he had now. He rather enjoyed the feeling of getting a new friend. He hoped that he might be able to keep them awhile. "Well, I-"

At that moment, Professor Longbottom appeared in the tent, smiling. "Good news. The gang is here to pick you up."

Lily and Gemini sat up and crawled out of the tent after Professor Longbottom.

"Mom!" Lily went and ran up to her mom, hugging her tightly and without mercy. Albus and James were by her side.

"Lil', we were so worried!"

"Are you alright? We heard what happened."

Ginny smiled and hugged her only daughter. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Gemini stood watching, as if from afar. What was it like to return to someone who loves you?

Albus took his eyes off Lily and instead looked to Gemini. "We're glad you're safe, too. Are you alright?"

The Potter family all looked to Gemini, as if waiting for an answer. They were glad he was safe. They were asking if he was okay. They cared. They were his friends. They were his family.

Gemini smiled. "Yeah. I'm great."

Harry stared down the main hallway, taking in its emptiness. The walls seemed dustier than they once were, and the floor appeared more worn. He thought maybe it was because Hogwarts had to be evacuated, even down to the last, very stubborn house elf. Or maybe it was all in his mind. It had only been an hour. Maybe the wall looked dusty because he was thinking about the aurors being sent to St Mungo's to be healed because none of them were getting better. Maybe the floors looked worn because he was thinking about his students all being crammed into the boats and carriages to be sent back home with all their belongings. Maybe the hallways felt empty because Harry himself felt empty. Here he had been, parading along like he was a teenaged hero once more. He couldn't do that. Who was he trying to fool acting like that? He shook his head.

It had all started with Tom.

That painting in his room that he spent his summer talking with. That painting in his house-no, his godfather's house-that urged him on, excited to head to Hogwarts. Yes, Harry had been so excited to go back to Hogwarts. He had been excited to teach, and to see his children, and to begin something of himself that could live on.

But it was Tom that told him to get that book, and it was Tom who had Thomas to bring up the Death Eaters once more, and to overtake the Ministry and steal away the aurors. It was Tom that planned to take out the entire Wizarding World and be The Dark Lord again. It was Tom that wanted to be great.

Harry supposed they had that in common.

Harry had also wanted to be great. How dare he let himself go like that. Harry had wanted to be great by teaching, and he had wanted to be great by saving the day all the time. Harry had the plan to barter for the aurors and to attack Thomas, but was so focused on being great that he didn't notice his foolishness. _He_ had let Ginny be brainwashed by the Ministry, and _he_ had let Tom's portrait into Hogwarts, and _he_ had let Hermione be taken. He was just so focused on being great, he had let little seeds slip through the cracks until they grew into giant vines, overtaking everything in their path.

Even Hogwarts.

Harry sighed. He supposed there was no sense in sulking. He had to fix the things he had missed. There was a dull pain at the back of his head, familiar to him. When had been the last time he had slept? Last night? The night before that? He couldn't remember. Surely now his body needed some rest. It couldn't take all this like it used to. He was nearing forty, for Merlin's sake. That fact hadn't crossed his mind in such a long time. He already missed the bliss of imagined youth.

He was ready. He had to be. There wasn't enough time.

Harry walked down the main hall past several, connecting hallways until he reached one absolutely cluttered with posters of Thomas, all overlapping so that only parts of his face were showing from every one. He hardly glanced at them, focused instead on sending his patronus to Neville and Luna.

In seconds, he received a reply from Luna.

"All the students packed the train thirty minutes ago and are on their way. It's been clear so far. Harry, you really shouldn't blame yourself. It's never easy beating someone with 21 years of evil planning." In a moment, it faded, and Harry was left to himself for just long enough to get lost in his thoughts once more.

"Harry," Neville's voice suddenly spoke, "Ginny and the kids are all together and safe in the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley's got 'em eating some homemade pumpkin pasties. I'll be clear to join you in just a moment."

Just as the patronus vanished, Neville dropped in holding an old boot portkey.

"All ready." Neville gave a curious look over Harry, but said nothing but, "Who else is coming?"

Harry shook his head. "Couldn't get anyone else to volunteer. I didn't want to force them."

Neville nodded solemnly. "S'pose the professors aren't as willing as I thought."

Again, Harry shook his head. "I didn't ask the professors. I wanted them all guarding the students, making sure they're safe. Luna's taken my place alongside them, currently, and Draco's in yours."

"Who'd you ask, then?" Neville asked incredulously.

"The remainder of The Order. Some ex-aurors who retired." Harry drew his eyebrows together. "Not many, now that I think about it."

"Alright," Neville replied. He wasn't sure of what to say. They were about to practically turn themselves in to Thomas through those posters, and it would only be the two of them to rescue Hermione.

After a moment, Neville nodded. "Alright. Let's go."

Harry looked to Neville. "You're not going."

"Why not?" Neville set his jaw. "I can do this, Harry. It won't be easy, but-"

"No, Neville, it's not that. I know you can do it." Harry did not meet his gaze. "It's Hannah."

Neville cocked his head to the side. "What'd she say?"

"She didn't have to say anything." Harry sighed. "You know as well as I do that this is a suicide mission, and she needs you, Neville. The baby…" Harry could only shake his head.

Neville understood at once, but it didn't make the choice to leave any easier. "But Harry, we have a better chance of getting out of there than you going by yourself. You don't know what's waiting on the other side of the poster."

Harry shrugged. "Thomas won't answer me any other way. I don't have much of a choice."

For a moment, Neville just stared at Harry. Here was his friend, a hero, doing another of his great deeds. But was this sacrifice too much? Harry had children, too. He had students, and friends, people who were like family to him. And yet, their safety was more than his safety. If any of them lost Harry, it would become a national day of mourning. But everyone would know he did it to save everyone else. That was what Harry Potter did.

"You can't go alone, Harry. I won't let you."

Harry stared at nothing. "Who else would I take? Everyone I know has a reason not to go: someone who will miss them."

"Harry," Neville pushed one of Harry's slumped shoulders with a hand in hopes to catch his attention. "People will miss you, too. You've got a family. More than just your children. You've got students, and friends-"

"I know that," he said aggressively. "But they know how I live, and they know the mistakes I've made. I've got to do this, and I'm not letting anyone die for me."

"Harry, don't-" Neville began, but before he could finish, the portkey, as scheduled by Harry, took him back to the Burrow to keep safe watch over his family.

As Harry stood at full height, he realized how much he didn't want to do this. He wished he could go back in time and fix his mistakes. The guilt in his stomach ate away at him. He couldn't imagine what was happening to Hermione right now. One of the longest friends he's had, pregnant, at the mercy of the Death Eaters. He could only hope the time she had been there had been spent locked away in a cellar, waiting for Harry to fall into the trap that had inevitably been set for him. That was always how it worked, right?

He hoped.

It was then that he heard the soft patter of footsteps in the distance. Harry pushed himself against the wall, closed his eyes, and listened. For a moment, the footsteps stopped, and then took back up again. They seemed to be looking for someone. Of course, it was probably Harry they were seeking. A Death Eater hoping they can catch him off guard. There were likely more of them around the castle. Harry was thankful it was empty save for him.

There was a sigh. "Harry," said Tom a few hallways down, "I do _not_ care to play games."

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion, and he walked into the middle of the main hall to see Tom standing there, dressed in robes, a potion in each hand.

"Tom? You should be home." As Harry spoke the words, he thought of how odd they sounded. Tom had a home. Harry didn't even have a home anymore.

"I was instructed by Draco to bring these," he held up the bottles in his hands, "to possibly aid you in your last mission."

Harry nearly laughed, but felt the action out of place. "I thought Draco was on the train."

"He is, of course. He had Astoria stop by and provide my transportation. That is why there are _two_ potions."

Something about Tom looked different. Harry couldn't quite place what it was. Was it in his face, maybe? Harry held out a hand, silently asking for a bottle. Tom handed it over carefully, ensuring its safety.

After a moment of awkward silence, Tom spoke up once more. "I suppose I owe you some due thanks." Though he waited for Harry to reply, he didn't, choosing instead to just stare. "You saved my life, though for many reasons you should have left me to my fate. Though I will _not_ say those words again," Tom's disgust pooled on his face and body before diminishing, "I have realized I am glad to be alive."

As neither of them spoke, their minds filled with things to say. Harry wanted to appreciate the thanks, and he wanted to yell and scream at Tom for starting it all, and he wanted to be lost in his guilt again. Tom wished he could run away and take back those vulnerable words he'd just uttered. But most of all, Tom wanted to go with him and watch as Thomas fell victim to the heroic Harry Potter. But the hall remained silent.

With nothing else to say or do, Tom glanced about the hall, remembering the relish of his younger years here. He saw the worn floors and high ceiling, and the dusty walls filled with those posters of Thomas. It was odd, he thought, that Thomas looked as crazy as he was. Before, Thomas had appeared so refined and well mannered, as if, true to his French heritage, he was trying to outclass them all. Now, it was as if he'd become more broken, more careless. He wondered what had happened since he had left the world.

"Tom…" a distant voice said softly. He was sure it was Harry, but he couldn't quite focus on it as he stared into the great, dark patch on Thomas's face and the bright white teeth revealing themselves wide again and again, and thin pale lips, just twitching at the end, as if he wanted to say something. What was it he was trying to tell him? If he hadn't known any better, he would have said it was Thomas's smile subsiding. But Tom knew it was the beginning of a spell. He knew just which one. And he was trapped in it.

In moments, Tom was on the floor of a bright room, blinking furiously in an attempt to adjust his eyes. He felt hands close about his wrists and try to pull his arms behind him, and then there was someone on top of him, crushing his lungs and removing the hands.

" _ **Arresto momentum**_ ," Harry yelled above him.

As Tom's eyes finally began to see, all he could make out was the plain gray of Harry's shirt. His chest was heavy and pained, his legs felt tangled, and there was many thin, sharp pains in his back.

After a moment, Harry moved off of him and began attacking the men who had tried to grab him. Tom watched from the ground, catching his breath, as the wide and tall men dressed in black robes and silver masks moved ten times slower than Harry, who was quickly walking about them, throwing spells and punches. In seconds, Harry had them petrified, wandless, and unmasked.

Tom reached for the pain on his back and cut himself on a piece of glass protruding from his back. He drew back his hand quickly, finding it covered in much more blood than he anticipated.

"Potter!" he yelled, furious. "You've smashed my potion!"

Harry ran over and began looking over his back. "We can all share mine," he said as he began pulling the bits of glass out with no warning or caution.

" _Damn it, Potter_!" Tom pounded his fist into the ground in anger and pain. "You _must_ drink half the potion for it to work. There will not be enough."

From behind them, a pair of footsteps clinked at the top of the stairs.

"How nice of you to join us," Thomas said. "Oh, no need to fix him. He'll get much worse anyway."

Harry and Tom turned to look at him, finding him covered in blood.

"Come on, now," he said, giving a large, toothy grin. "There's someone waiting for you downstairs. She's been _dying_ for you to visit." With that, Thomas turned and walked down the stairs, his chuckles echoing off the walls has he went.

In an instant, Harry stood and followed after him, leaving Tom lying on the floor, bleeding and unable to see where the glass in his back was. For a moment, he was angered, but soon found he had no reason. Knowing Harry, he would stay behind and let the girl and himself travel out with the potion. He would make it out. That wouldn't be a problem.

He glanced around, noticing the room was nothing but windows except the one wall with a staircase leading downstairs, where Thomas and Harry had gone. The rest showed Tom the bright sun outside, revealing the dark green hills that rolled on and on. The floor beneath him, aside from being riddled with tiny slivers of glass, was smooth, white tiles. There was no door here. No exit but the stairs. He wondered a moment how Thomas even got in here. Did he have to apparate every time? Or was there a door somewhere down below? He supposed the only way he would find out would be to follow.

He rose slowly, careful not to irritate the glass in him too much, and made his way down, hearing the voices rise up instantly.

"Hermione!"

"Uh-uh, no touching the prisoners, Harry."

"What have you done to her?"

"Oh, I think you know very well what's happened here. Tell him, Amayra."

The name rang in Tom's head. He'd heard the name before, many years ago when Thomas had found him after many, many years. He had been looking for something to help his sick wife so she could be strong enough to bear a child. He supposed something or another of what he had given him had worked out, given the circumstances.

"Knives," a horribly shaking, hoarse voice stated. It sounded beaten, defeated, and controlled. "Torture." Was that really the wife he had loved dearly? Had he gone mad enough to torture her, too?

Tom crouched on the stairs and peeked into the room. It was large and lit by several torches. The walls looked as if they were metal and the floor as if it was dirt. There were two people hanging from the far wall: one with bushy hair and tattered clothes, and the other with long black hair and no clothes, both covered in blood.

There was most certainly not enough potion to go around. Maybe Tom would be stuck here, after all. Harry was in control of who got back.

Tom stared at the body of Harry's friend. He had known of her, back when he was taking over the world, and understood at some point that he should not have underestimated her ability to aid Harry. He had seen her as a royal brat-to be fair, he saw all children like that-but a smart one. Here she was now, hands and feet bolted to a wall, slack and almost unmoving save for her breathing. Her hair was a mess about her, and the blood on her looked dry and cracked, turning from red to brown.

Tom could see faint hints that she had been strong, once. One wrist, her left one, hung over the restraints, appearing to have a bone jutting out of its proper place under her skin. She must have broken it trying to escape. He could hardly make heads or tales of what had been done to her. Her stomach appeared to be leaning forward slightly. Had she maybe loosened the restraints enough to be able to lean? The more he stared, the more he realized it was just her stomach, though something was clearly wrong with how it appeared.

"Leave her alone! Please! Release her! Take me." Harry begged, tears in his eyes. He thought it was his fault. How could Tom explain that villains are supposed to outsmart their heroes? It wasn't his fault. Harry didn't know the tremendous mind Thomas held behind that crooked smile.

"Oh, _do_ join us. It's rather dull to enjoy the party from the stairs, don't you think?"

Thomas stared at him. Without his magic, Tom could feel it in his bones.

Tom stood and walked down the rest of the stairs with grace. Maybe Thomas would kill him. The thought terrified him to no end, but he would not give Thomas the satisfaction of seeing him that vulnerable.

"Now, both of you, get comfy."

In seconds, an invisible force pushed Tom and Harry into an empty set of chains behind them. As Harry struggled, Thomas walked calmly over and plucked the bottle from his hands, letting it drop at his feet.

"Oh, pity. Was that your plan of escape?" Thomas smiled. "Guess you'll be staying a while." His eyes shifted over to Tom. "Ah, Tommy! I've missed you. You know, we really haven't been able to catch up amidst all the planning and evil." He stepped just before him, placing his face so close to Tom's, Tom could feel his breath. "And now, we've got all the time in the world. Let's start!"

Thomas stepped away and pulled up a contraption and set it on his knife table. He turned it to face a blank wall beside them and clicked a button.

A light appeared from the machine, projecting an image on the wall: a bright blue background and a white box that said "Connecting" in small black lettering. In seconds, the box changed to say "content not found."

"Oh, blast! This darn muggle technology."

Thomas pulled up what appeared to be a tiny book and opened it. Tom saw the bright screen, unsure of what exactly it was. Thomas picked it up and pressed a few buttons, setting it down when the contraption once again lit up with the blue "Connecting" image.

"There we are." Thomas smiled and looked at Tom. "I promise, this muggle stuff isn't worthless. Actually, I find it amusing. Not having magic really made them quite discontent with their lives. You 'ought to learn, too. It may help you to cope, Tommy."

Tom felt a pang of anger, but said nothing as the image changed. It now had a lavender background with bigger words in black reading "Thomas Louis Gamp" in a cursive script.

"Now, don't laugh at my middle name. I'm very embarrassed of it." Thomas shook his head with a smile. "It was my great grandfather's name. He was a Frenchman. Ruled over some people or something." He laughed as if he had just made a joke. "Oh, I kid," he said when he finished. "On with the story, then."

He clicked another button and the text faded out and a picture did loop and landed in the center of the projection. Tom recognized it as a younger Thomas.

"This is me on my sixteenth birthday. My mother had promised me five years previously that I could go to Beauxbatons, but when my father attempted to enroll me, they would not have me. So," he clicked the button once more and a picture of a tower on fire looped onto the projection. "I burned down the boy's dormitory that summer. It was quite a present, indeed."

He clicked once more.

"This is me at Hogwarts in my last year. Boooring."

*click*

"This is old Tommy here from afar at a Death Eater meeting. He didn't know that I was there, of course, or that I had a camera."

Tom stared at a younger version of himself. He looked tired and angry, with creases around his eyes and dark bags underneath.

*click*

"Ooh, this one is a favorite of mine. My lovely Amayra. Strong. Powerful. And absolutely loving." He looked lovingly to the woman chained to the wall. The more Tom looked at her, the more differences he noticed between her and the picture. The woman on the wall had wide, brown eyes, a strong chin, and hallow cheeks; the woman in the picture had soft, blue eyes and a round face. They were similar, but not the same. "This is her on our wedding day. What day was it, my dear?"

The woman on the wall opened her mouth but said nothing.

Thomas's face fell into anger. "You bloody bitch! Our wedding day! Surely you remember!" He picked up a knife and stalked over to her. Holding it up to her neck, he pressed against her. "Say it. When is it?" Though the woman made a noise in her throat, she said nothing nor even struggled.

They all watched as Thomas cut a line from her forehead, down the side of her neck, and to her shoulder. Blood dripped down her face and body, slowly covering what was already dried. She did not scream, but just whimpered quietly.

Thomas sighed and put the knife back. "May 12th of 1953. A beautiful spring, that year was. At least, it was beautiful in our enchanted backyard."

*click*

"Of course, soon afterwards, my Amayra became ill. All the healers tried to help her best they could, but nothing worked. Said she was _terribly_ cursed. She wanted awfully to have a child, but I told her she was not strong enough. She begged me to search for ways to help her, even if it was just temporarily." Thomas's face grew somber. "I looked and looked, but nothing we tried worked. I was desperate."

*click*

"So I found Tommy again." Thomas's humor returned. "Here he is. Wow, he must've had a stressful week. Any how, I ask Tommy for some help. He gives me a couple advanced spells and potions in return for my promise to follow him." Thomas smiled at Tom. "I did for a while, you've got to admit."

*click*

"This is me making all those potions. Of course, I wasn't well trained in potion making, but I made due. I created several potions for Amayra, at the cost of one life per vial, and she grew to be big and strong again."

*click*

Thomas sighed as another picture of Amayra appeared. She looked happy and healthy, almost glowing. "That's my Amayra. Always beautiful. We tried time and time again for a child, but it never happened. I began to notice that Amayra was retaining her youth better than I. Some fifteen years later, I began to take the potion as well. We lived alone together in the middle of a large forest, but we were happy and young, still. Our aging slowed and the towns closest to us began to believe there was a monster in our woods. Were they right?" Thomas shrugged as a large, creepy smile overtook his features. "Who's to say?"

*click*

"Ah, the first reign of Lord Voldemort. It was a beautiful time, really." Buildings burned in the picture, and people were running towards the camera. "I did little things to help, but I mostly kept to myself. Amayra had no idea what I was doing, with the potions or with the Death Eaters. She doesn't appreciate that. Keeping all those secrets."

*click*

"Oh, well would you look at that."

Harry began wrestling his restraints.

Tom could remember that house in the picture. He had gone in with the intent to kill one parent and a baby, but left killing two parents and himself. That house in Godric's Hollow, before the destruction. Before Voldemort had done his work.

"Has it been thirteen years already? My goodness, pictures go by fast. Well, _this_ is Harry's little house. His parents were inside, unsuspecting, and Harry was being put to sleep, if I'm not mistaken. A moment of history, this is." Thomas smiled.

*click*

"I'm through with this!" Harry yelled.

Thomas pretended not to hear.

"Now _this_ is my Amayra, in tears. She was devastated when she discovered what I had been doing all along with those potions." His smile turned to a frown. "Prevented her from having a baby. She'd gone to get checked with a healer and they told her she was, quote, _practically infertile_." He shook his hands open in front of him and then balled them into fists. "Everything had always been about babies." He threw his arms by his side. "I hadn't been good enough for her, all those years. She wanted something to care for. So I came up with a plan."

*click*

"Yes, more potions. More killings, this time of wizards. Also, different potions. I experimented a bit. If my calculations were correct, the potion was to allow her body to hold a baby and then feed her body off it. Yes, the baby would die, but Amayra would be stronger, even without those old potions to feed her." Thomas gave a large, sickening grin. "And it was working, too. Until, of course," his smile faded.

*click*

"She learned of what I was doing." The picture showed Amayra, in tears on the floor, holding a knife and bleeding. "She attacked me just before the birth and took something to reverse the potion."

*click*

The image was of Amayra dead on the floor, covered in a pool of blood with a large belly. "It had killed her." Thomas stared at the picture a moment before clicking the button again.

This picture showed a baby, very small in a blanket, small eyes half open. "The little devil had my eyes. It was sickening, the thing that killed my wife. I couldn't keep the monster around, so I left it in the forest to die. When I later returned to check on it, it was gone. I supposed it was preyed upon by a wild animal. Serves it right."

*click*

It was another image of Amayra's dead body. "I missed Amayra terribly. I had thought I lost her forever. It was horrible. I went crazy for a while and wondered about. Then I found this beauty the next day."

*click*

This was a picture of the woman on the wall. She was much fuller and happier. Tom wondered how long she had been down here.

"She had just played a joke on me the whole time. It was a good one. She tried to keep it going for as long as possible, pretending she didn't remember me, and forgetting my name. She still likes to play that game, but sometimes," he glanced at the woman on the wall, "she has to be reminded to stop."

"That's _not_ Amayra! You let that woman go!" Harry struggled and wrestled and yelled. Tom knew it wasn't enough. He'd simply be reprimanded like that woman was.

"Oh come now, little Harry. _Do_ settle down. The story isn't quite over yet." Thomas's face fell into a wicked grin.

*click*

The next picture showed several people all chained to the wall (chains that were not currently there, Tom noted), hanging like Harry's friend across from them: nearly lifeless, defeated. Tom did not understand the significance.

"You monster," Harry hissed, rattling his chains, but making no progress.

" _This_ ," Thomas said over Harry, "is a beautiful scene of the aurors, all safe and cozy in their beds, while they were staying here, in my Lovely Place. I think they really enjoyed it here." Thomas shook his head. "But they out stayed their welcome. Had to kick them out."

*click*

Tom stared into the photograph of a red haired man up close. He thought that maybe he recognized the face, but was more than sure he did not. It was long and thin, covered in blood and dirt. His limbs were spewed every which way, with his right leg appearing to be at an irregular angle. He was limp on the floor, appearing to look almost like that picture of Amayra before. Only this man's eyes were full of tears, and there was a word on his lips. Truly, it was a masterpiece of torture.

Turning his head as much as he could with his arm in the way, Tom looked to Harry, who had gone silent. His eyes, though resilient, watered, and his jaw was set. Was it the gruesomeness that seemed to shake Harry to his bones? Or did Harry know this man?

Thomas stepped just before Harry and placed his face close in, speaking softly. "Do you want to know what he went through, Harry? Do you want to _feel_ it? To know the way he cried out for you and her? To understand what finally broke him?" Thomas took a step back and began to laugh manically loud.

Tom wished he could do magic. Then he'd be out of these chains. He'd be winning. He'd be laughing alongside Thomas, torturing anyone who got in his way. He'd be able to live on forever, ruling the world as he had always wanted.

But was that what he wanted now?

He'd spent his life getting revenge, angry at everything, but as Thomas grabbed up his knife again and placed it on Harry's neck, he was sure he felt something that was not anger.

He felt…he was not sure. He felt "I-do- _not_ -want-this-man-to-die". It was an odd feeling that he had never before encountered. He didn't like it.

He felt it nonetheless. Thomas made tiny little cuts along Harry's neck every few inches, making a dotted line, and he laughed again. Really, Tom was disgusted watching this man he had known as a boy. Had he honestly gone this mad? Gone enough to laugh at pain and to make it all humorous? The world was not humor. _His plan_ was _not_ humor!

" _Stop!"_ Tom hissed in Parseltongue.

In moments, the room fell silent. Everyone in the room stared at him, even the girls on the other wall.

Tom's head hatched an idea. He stared intently at Harry.

" _Stop!_ " he hissed again.

Harry's brows furrowed, and he gave a small shake of his head. _I can't speak that anymore_ , he must have been thinking.

_I know that, you fool,_ Tom was thinking, _but you once did._

Thomas narrowed his eyes and began to raise his knife hand once more.

“ _STOP!”_ Harry hissed in echo.

Mid-motion, Thomas stopped. Frozen in time, he could not move. His eyes were wide, but ultimately stuck.

Tom nearly smiled. He had _taught_ someone. He didn’t allow for time to feel prideful.

“ _Back!_ ” Tom hissed, nodding at Harry. “ _Back!_ ”

“ _Back_ ,” Harry repeated, sending the frozen Thomas back, falling onto his muggle machine, sending it crashing to the floor. The lighted pictured with the tortured man on it disappeared.

He was doing it. Tom was sure he would escape. “ _Free us! Free us!_ ”

“ _Freeee...Free us_!” Harry hissed. In moments, the restraints on all four of them were gone.

Harry ran to his friend as she fell to the ground instantly. Tom watched as he lifted her carefully, speaking something softly to her. Tom would have thought he was in love with her, had he cared to think such things.

Though it was not in his nature, Tom thought he should gather the other female and bring her closer to Harry so they could all escape. It would save time, and Tom wasn’t sure how much they had.

Harry seemed to notice Tom’s hurriedness (rather than care), and ran across the room to pick up his wand. In moments, he was back to Hermione, holding her hand. Tom soon joined, with the other girl barely propped up with her arms around his shoulders. “Hold tight,” he said offhandedly. Harry raised his wand, and in moments, they disapperated.

 


	25. Two Lessons

She thought it had been forever. She thought decades upon decades of her life were taken away from her, sucked from her body, ripped from her soul. She thought she had lived there half her life, letting it all slip away, down the drain, with the wind. She thought she would die there. She thought that she would bleed every last drop, breathe her last breath, and he would watch as the light left her eyes.

It had been five years.

"Five _ghastly_ long years…" she spoke quietly to herself as she wrapped her arms around her, still feeling bare and vulnerable, even underneath the sweater and pants she now wore.

"Janet," Harry said, sticking his head through the front door of the Burrow. "Are you alright?"

With a sniffle, she shook her head. The things she had been through…the things she had _done_. Five years ago, she had been an ordinary girl, almost on her way to her first chance to be an actress. She had been twenty-three and naïve. No one had hardly ever given her more than a glance. And then this man came along, beautiful and tall, with elegant language and a look of recognition in his eyes. She had thought it was a pick-up line, pretending that he knew her. After a while, she went along with it, hoping it would progress into something further. She had never been with any man before, and the thought of skipping out on one that was interested in her seemed like a waste.

She had thought they hit it off, talking like they had known each other for years. Little did she know that Thomas was a madman. It hadn't been until he had kidnapped her that he had even given her the impression that something was really wrong with him. Janet looked back on it now and wondered what happened when she never turned up for her audition. Most of all, she wondered what would have happened to her if she had turned Thomas away and went to her audition later that week. Would she have a job? Would she be famous, by now? She would never know.

Harry came and sat beside her. "I can't imagine what it must have been like," he said softly. "I suppose, it would be much worse than waking up one day without a purpose in life." He shook his head. "That's what I've been trying to avoid since the beginning of this year."

Janet said nothing.

"I didn't know about you, otherwise I would have been there in a heartbeat to save you. But I didn't. It was all still in the process, that plan of his…" Harry sighed. He turned at looked at her, though she did not look back. "It'll never go away. The only promise I can give you is that every obstacle will make it harder." Harry looked down at his lap. "But you've got to be brave. You've got to be stronger than every obstacle and tell them they won't tear you down. And some will listen, but others will try their hardest to knock you down. And when you fall," Harry looked up and met her milky brown eyes, "you've got to get back up and keep at it. If you don't, you'll let the good things in your life walk away."

With that, Harry stood and entered back into the house, gently closing the door behind him and leaving Janet to her thoughts.

"How is she doing?" Hermione asked from the couch where she was wrapped in a blanket, still shaking. She had been asleep not moments before his departure outside.

"How are _you_ doing, Hermione?" Harry came over beside her and sat on the arm of the couch.

She sighed. "Physically? Quite better. Mrs. Weasley has been fussing about me all day." She gave a small smile. "She really is a blessing, that woman."

Harry nodded. "How are you otherwise?"

Hermione took in a shivering breath. "It's difficult to say…"

"Then relax." Harry put a gentle hand on her leg. "You need it. For the baby, at least."

Hermione's brows knitted together. She whispered, "how's Ron?"

Harry looked to the ground. "He's in St. Mungo's with the rest of the healers. Last I heard, they said they all suffered a really terrible curse that they were working on reversing. I haven't gotten any updates since."

She gave a quick nod and looked away, a gleam in her eyes.

Harry looked away, too, but found there wasn't much in the Weasley house anymore. They still had all their furniture, but the walls were bare except for Mrs. Weasley's enchanted clocks, filled to the brim with people from her whole family. He didn't want to look at them. Ron was on them. He wouldn't be able to tear his eyes from the hand that pictured Ron and pointed to something terrible.

He looked instead to the dining room where Tom had been sitting for the past hour, staring at the kitchen as it did the chores while Mrs. Weasley was cooking them dinner. Harry remembered the first time he ever saw Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, but surely Tom had seen such a thing before…right?

Harry stood, considering placing a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder a moment before he thought better of it. He walked over to Tom at the table, sitting in the chair beside him, watching Mrs. Weasley, too.

Even in her old age, she was so skilled in everything she did. Her thinning hair was pulled behind her, the curly tips fading into grey, as if they had been dipped in paint. She used spells to keep the rest of it a bright red, but she must have liked how the ends looked. She had told them all she would make something special for dinner tonight, but had not quite explained what. She moved from pot to pot, tossing in this and that, stirring here and there, checking the oven. The dishes began to plop themselves into the sink full of soapy water, splashing on the counter where Mrs. Weasley was mixing something in a bowl.

" _Ohhh_ ," she said like a curse. Quickly, she grabbed a towel and began wiping up the water. "Well, at least it didn't make it to the peas."

She was wearing a long sweater over a dress with a pattern Harry couldn't quite discern. He wasn't quite sure what she used to wear--possibly things she stitched together herself--but he felt she was so much more Mrs. Weasley with that sweater on. Ron had bought it for her on her last birthday, with prompting from Hermione. It had been the first time Ron had ever gotten her something to wear, she said then, and she loved it. She wore it like a crown.

"Is she informed?" Tom asked quietly.

Harry did not look to him. "About what?"

"Myself." He folded his hands on the table.

With a half-smile, Harry replied, "Yes. And now she's going to feed you dinner."

Tom's brow furrowed. "I am responsible for the death of her son and the near-deaths of her husband, youngest son, and daughter."

Harry glanced at Tom, but let his gaze fall back to Mrs. Weasley. "She knows that." After a moment, he looked back to Tom. "You kept count of whose deaths you are responsible for?"

Tom shrugged. "Only of those important to you. It was once a contest."

Harry slowly turned back to watch Mrs. Weasley. Was that what war was to the other side? A contest? Who can kill more of the other side? Who can murder more loved ones? The thought was sickening. But of course, that was war.

After a moment of silence, they continued watching Mrs. Weasley. She had taken out what appeared to be a chicken from the oven and was now shredding it by hand. Harry marveled at it, wondering how she could manage to do so without burning her fingers.

On a whim, Harry said to Tom, "You know, she was the one who killed Bellatrix LeStrange."

Tom's eyebrows raised. "Interesting."

Harry shrugged. "Killing someone isn't all that interesting. It's why." When Harry turned to look at Tom, he found Tom was already looking at him. "Anyone could kill anyone. It's a terrible thing to do, really, even in a war." Harry half-smiled once more. "She was saving Ginny from her. Ginny's told me and the kids the story for ages. She had quite the catchphrase before she did it." Harry's smile melted, and he turned from Tom.

"Ginny," Tom said, testing the word on his tongue. He had decided to change the subject. "Is that your ex-wife?"

Harry nodded.

"The little girl I tried to murder in the Chamber of Secrets?" Tom glanced curiously at Harry. He wondered at what point he would be tossed from this house and had taken to finding just where the line might be drawn.

"Yeah," Harry said. "She was just a first year, then. Just my best friend's little sister."

Tom watched him. While Harry's eyes faced Mrs. Weasley, they seemed to be decades into the past. "If you shared such a bond, why divorce?"

Harry sighed. "I'm not sure I want to answer that question sober."

Tom was unpleased with this answer. He glanced about, taking in his surroundings, judging just what he could get away with. He was in a house of kind people, clearly. They may be interested in taking their minds off their own problems and focusing on Harry's. A little fire whiskey might do them all some good.

Tom rose, unnoticed by Harry, and walked to Hermione on the couch. Before he was in her sight, he glanced over her, considering what he would say. He noticed that she was staring off at the wall, where hardly anything was hanging. He pondered that, rather than attempt to charm her, he should try for a warmer approach; less charisma, and more friendliness would work, he thought. He had a plan all worked out in his mind, but unfortunately, he could not remember her name.

"I _do_ apologize for disturbing you…" he left a pause for where he would have stated her name, "but Harry seems to have drifted off into a day dream of sorts." Hermione's eyes grew curious. "No need to worry. I believe he is reliving his past. I was unsure if you wanted to be informed."

Hermione pressed her lips into a smile. "That happens from time to time. We're all under quite a bit of stress. It's a kind of escape for him sometimes."

Tom nodded. "Yes, of course." He molded his face into a somber expression so well put-together, he almost felt it. "It has been difficult." After a moment, he spoke up suddenly, "Do you happen to know if Mrs. Weasley owns whiskey? I suppose we would all enjoy a hard drink."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure she does. I can go ask-" she began to throw the blanket off her.

"While I am not your healer," Tom replied automatically, "I do believe that mobility was strictly prohibited until further notice." The phrase left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he let it slide.

"Yes, of course." Hermione sat back, a smile growing on her face. "Maybe you ought to ask. I should rest."

Tom could sense the gentle surprise in her tone. He almost mechanically wanted to roll his eyes, but found that maybe he did not want to. He was unsure.

Either way, he walked back to the kitchen, standing for a moment in the doorway, considering Mrs. Weasley and how to approach her.

"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Weasley piped up before his mind had come to a conclusion. "What can I get for you?"

Rather taken aback, Tom opened his mouth, but said nothing. He didn't have time. He always needed time. Mrs. Weasley was a type he had never talked to before. He needed to analyze her.

Mrs. Weasley flicked her wand and a knife began cutting the potatoes she had been washing in the sink. She turned to face him. "Are you alright, dear?"

She called him "dear." He was not sure how to feel about that. It felt awkward on his ears to even hear the word. "May I speak with you a moment?" Tom took a calming breath while his mind raced for information.

"Of course." Mrs. Weasley picked up a towel and began to dry her hands off.

Tom was quiet a moment. For once, his mind was at a loss of what to say. He considered in an instant speaking his mind, and decided it might be most appropriate.

"Why have you allowed me into your home?" Tom asked, his body rather rigid and unsure.

Mrs. Weasley sighed and placed the towel on the counter. "If I'm honest with you dear, it took a bit for me to get used to the idea."

Tom's mind wondered. "Then why did you allow it?"

"I trust in Harry," Mrs. Weasley said softly, and then smiled. "He was a part of the family before he had even made it to Hogwarts." She turned back around and began tossing the potatoes into one of the many pots she had on the stove. "If he wants to protect you, you must be worth saving."

Tom let his mind consider the words she had spoken only a moment before changing the subject. "Do you, by chance, have any fire whiskey? I believe we could all use a bit of…" Toms words halted in his throat as it tightened a bit. What was he feeling? Nausea? Possibly from all the genuine feelings in the room. "…something to calm us."

"Oh, _that_ is an idea," Mrs. Weasley stepped over to a tall cabinet and tapped on the door three times with her wand. Down from the cabinet floated two bottles: one a deep rust red and the other a clear bottle two thirds full with amber liquid.

"Excellent," Tom smiled pleasantly. He held out his hands and Mrs. Weasley placed the bottles in them. "I will be back in a moment for the glasses."

With cautious speed, he exited the kitchen and placed the bottles on the dining table gently. With a quick glimpse to Harry, Tom could see he had snapped out of his daydream.

"What are those?" Harry asked.

Although a true response was on the tip of his tongue, Tom replied, "Pumpkin juice," in a sarcastic tone before turning and heading back to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley handed him three whiskey glasses and a wine glass. Tom nodded and thanked her before returning to the dining table.

Harry was looking over one of the bottles. "Why does Molly have a bottle of _Guinevere's Fire Whiskey_?" Harry uncorked the top of the bottle easily and looked inside. "And why is some of it missing?"

Mrs. Weasley came to the table, chuckling and placing some plates down. "I know I'm mostly a wine drinker, Harry dear, but I can handle a bit of fire whiskey now and again." She headed back into the kitchen.

Tom chuckled quietly as well, seeing the confusion on Harry's face. He was truly amused, and it left a lighter feeling in his stomach area.

Mrs. Weasley returned with silverware and pots of food floating behind her. As she placed the silverware at each plate, the pots would unload themselves in generous portions: potatoes, carrots, stewed tomatoes, chicken with stuffing, and Yorkshire pudding.

"Alright now, boys, pour the drinks. I'll go get Minny." Mrs. Weasley smiled and left.

Tom raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Minny?"

Harry nodded, already pouring the whiskey. "That's her pet name for Hermione. Ron calls her 'Mione', so she sort of based it off that." Harry took a sip of whiskey and began pouring the next glass. "It's been a long week."

Tom nodded. "Indeed." When Harry finished pouring another glass, Tom took it and took a sip. As the liquid touched his lips, he could feel the heat in his nose. Traveling down his throat, it left a trail like fire to his stomach, before cooling down and spreading a warm feeling over his limbs. It was excellent, he thought. He had only ever had expensive fire whiskey, compliments of Malfoy, but he had heard that the cheaper kinds often kept their fire too long. He had often thought that the expensive ones lost their fire too soon. This had the perfect amount of heat. He enjoyed it so much, he took another sip almost immediately.

Mrs. Weasley came into the room once more, Hermione with an arm over her shoulders walking gently and slowly.

Harry quickly stood and went to help. "Still a bit weak, I take it."

Hermine nodded. Her face seemed a bit paler than Tom had seen earlier, though not too noticeable.

"Oh, maybe I should have brought your plate to you, dear. The healers advised no magic, and all. It would have saved us all the trouble." Mrs. Weasley said regretfully as she and Harry gently helped Hermione into a chair.

"I'm quite fine, Molly. Thank you. It's good that I walk. I need to start getting my bearings back." Hermione looked to the last empty whiskey glass.

Harry went back to his chair but began pouring the last glass before sitting down, handing it to Hermione when he finished. Afterwards, Harry uncorked the wine bottle and began pouring Mrs. Weasley a glass.

"Thank you, dear." Mrs. Weasley removed her apron and placed it over an empty chair. "Well, go on. You can all eat. Janet says she won't be joining us tonight. Poor thing."

As they all began digging into their food, Tom watched Harry carefully. He seemed to only be sipping his fire whiskey lightly. Tom, who was not too fond of alcohol and its effects on his mind, emptied his glass much quicker. The thought of not hearing the story was making him dreadfully bored. He wanted more insight on the Boy-Who-Lived.

Tom pondered a moment on what to do. He calculated the amount of peer pressure he would be able to push on Harry without the interference of the other two: not much unless it was devastatingly subtle. Tom did not think he could breach Harry at all being that subtle, not even counting the fact that Tom hated subtlety altogether. He was more of a dramatist. He wondered if, possibly, he could pressure all three simultaneously. If he could get the other two intoxicated, he would have no problems getting to Harry's story…

"I must say, Mrs. Weasley," Tom stated between the short conversations that had been occurring before, "this fire whiskey is the best I have ever consumed." He had noticed she responded well to honesty rather than charm. He could be honest (enough). "And I have tasted only the finest of liquors." Tom put on a charming smile. He calculated that it may not be too much partnered with this compliment; just enough to make it genuine.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Why thank you. My son Charlie gifted it to me just last Christmas. It's Romanian."

Hermione sipped a bit more from her cup. "It _is_ rather warming. Not too hot."

"I'm glad you all are enjoying it," Mrs. Weasley said. She looked to Harry's glass, still practically full. "Would you like some wine instead, Harry dear?"

Harry glanced up from his chicken. "Hmm? No thanks. I just haven't stopped eating long enough to drink much. I'm starving." True to his word, Harry's food was already half gone, while everyone else's plates were practically full.

"Well, no rush, Dear." Mrs. Weasley smiled. "It's good to see you eating so well. I'm sure you haven't had quite a meal in a while."

Harry nodded, shoving a large bite of potatoes into his mouth.

As dinner continued, Tom noticed how empty his stomach had been. He could not remember the last full meal he ate. He had taken potions, mostly, to rid of his hunger. Tom ate and ate, his manners keeping him just short of gorging himself. As he reached for another sip of whiskey after finishing his portion of chicken, he realized that his glass was empty.

Mrs. Weasley noticed and smiled. "Let me pour you another glass." She stood, grabbed the whiskey bottle, and poured more amber liquor into Tom's glass. Tom thanked her and took a large sip, then continued to eat.

By the end of dinner, Tom had finished his second glass while Harry and Hermione had just finished their first.

"Would you all like another glass? It's almost gone." Mrs. Weasley looked about the table, beginning to clean up some plates.

"I'll have some more, thank you." Tom pushed his legs up, intending to stand, but found the room began to move and sway as he did so, throwing him off balance enough so that he fell promptly back into his chair.

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "Had a bit too much, eh? That's quite alright. This drink does have a way of catching up with you long after drinking it."

Tom's world settled once more. He realized now how blurry it had become as he looked to Mrs. Weasley. Something happened on her face, around her eyes. Had she blinked? Or had it only been one eye? Why would she wink at him?

Tom attempted to think more about why he had drank so much. He was a terrible lightweight. He knew that. Had he thought drinking more would get the others to drink? He couldn't remember. Maybe he had enjoyed the taste too much.

Harry chuckled. "Are you alright, Tom? You look a bit bewildered."

Tom looked to Harry. He had perfectly tousled raven hair that brought out his bright green, almond-shaped eyes. Why had Tom not noticed these things before? Were there other things he had not noticed?

He looked then to the girl. Hermininny? That had to be her name. Ninny, Ninny, Ninny, he thought to himself, reciting it to put it to memory. He very well couldn't talk to her correctly without knowing her name. She had bronze hair that stuck out in giant ringlets like she had springs in her hair. He had thought it bushy before, but found it was rather pleasant now. More like a trimmed bush. A well-kempt, expensive bush. Yes, he rather thought it was fashionable. He rather wished he could pull it off himself. He would need much more hair.

Hermione chuckled. "You would indeed."

Tom was confused at this statement. Was she reading his mind?

"No, Tom." She said, giggling. "You're saying it all aloud." In a moment, she leaned back in her chair, falling into a fit of giggles.

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "I suppose I should've brought out the small glasses. I forgot how potent this whiskey is."

Ah hah! Tom stood feeling accomplished, though he couldn't remember why. He was so focused on the excitement, he thought it really didn't matter much as to why.

Mrs. Weasley disappeared to the kitchen to finish the dishes. Tom glanced at Harry, wondering about his state. Was he as excited as Tom? He ought to be. The world was pretty grand. It was Tom's World, after all.

Tom concentrated for a moment, trying to block out the blurred motion of the room to make out what Harry was doing with his hands over his face.

"Haaary," Tom said in an attempt to retain his perfect speech. He would never dare slur his words if he could help it.

Harry placed his face on the table and wrapped his arms around them, making quite strange noises. Tom got oddly close in an attempt to hear, bumping Harry's head with his own.

Tom stood back up suddenly, causing the world to move much quicker, and he fell, just barely catching himself on the table. "Haaaaryyy," he said. "Waat iiis wrooong?" He really tried to annunciate. He thought he was fairly successful.

Harry was crying. But why? Tom patted Harry ungracefully on the back. Did that cheer him up? It didn't seem like it. Tom considered that maybe he was crying because he was tired. Tom could understand that. He thought maybe he would ask.

"Haaaarryyy… aaare yoooou…tiiiredd?" Tom tried to focus on Harry. Focusing was difficult, mostly because the world was spinning. Why did it have to spin so fast?

Harry did not respond. Tom looked to Hermione. She was about to fall out of her chair. Tom tried to jump to her soon enough to stop her from falling, but found that he missed, bumping her and causing her to fall to the floor. Instead of crying out in pain, it only made her laugh more.

Mrs. Weasley ran into the room. "Is everything alright?"

Tom nodded. "Heeerniiinny feeell." Instead of helping her up, Tom went over to Harry and attempted to lift him up. Harry seemed to get up with him. Tom placed one of Harry's arms around his shoulders as if to stable him. "Iiii'm taaking Haaarrry…" Tom paused to think, "tooo schleeep." He nodded and headed off.

The pair managed to stumble all the way up to the top floor, avoiding too many bumps and bruises on their knees. Tom thought he was quite accomplished. He was proud of himself. He wanted everyone to be proud of him.

"Haarry," he spoke seriously, seeming to gain more control over his mouth, "aaare you proud of meee?"

Harry stumbled over to the bed and fell onto it, face down in the sheets.

"Nooo…" Tom went over and fought to turn Harry over so he could respond. "Haarry."

"Why should I be proud Tom?" Harry sniffed. He had stopped crying.

Tom fell onto the bed next to Harry, facing the ceiling. "Becaaause…" he replied carefully, unsure of what he was originally going to say, "I aam aaliive. And…I aam breeeathing. Thaaat! Is somethiiing tooo be proouud of."

Harry shook his head. "Let's just…" he shook his head again violently, "…all die!"

Tom tried to sit up, finding the weight of his head much heavier than it had been before. "Noooo…" he whispered loudly. "Nooooooo…"

After a moment, Harry was no longer shaking, but breathing deeply. Tom turned his head to face Harry, squishing his own arm underneath him. He poked Harry a few times, calling his name, but found that he was asleep. Tom shook his head. Harry couldn't fall asleep. He was supposed to be awake! It was the day time. They had just eaten…breakfast? He couldn't recall. He knew he had eaten something delicious. Eggs, maybe. He could distinctly remember eggs. It had to be breakfast. There was no time for sleeping.

Tom attempted to push himself up using the arm underneath him, but found this only further tangled himself by turning and pinning the other arm between himself and Harry. His face was in the bed and he couldn't talk. He had to talk.

With a huge gust of strength, Tom pushed himself off the bed and landed on the floor in a huge heap. He quickly climbed back onto the bed, pushing Harry further onto it so he didn't fall. That fall would probably hurt. Did it hurt Tom? He thought maybe it might have. It was hard to tell. He should push Harry further up anyways. He needed covers to sleep and he was on top of them. Tom pulled and tugged at the sheets, but they hardly moved while underneath Harry. Instead, Tom got into the bed, placed his back against the headboard, and pushed them down with his feet. The covers moved enough so that Tom could maneuver Harry until he was mostly underneath them. Afterwards, he felt largely tired himself. That was a large amount of work for him to do. He hoped that Harry would be proud of him.

Tom pushed his legs under the covers and passed out, his head only half on the pillow, just as the sun had set, casting out pink and navy into the sky. The house was fairly quiet, with only a faint echo of giggles for a while until they, too, were put to sleep. Then, the house rested.


	26. A Change of Head

 

Harry woke groggily, trying desperately to cover the sunlight streaming in from the window. Hadn't there been curtains in Ron's room? He was sure there was. Every time he opened his eyes, he was overwhelmed with the brightness of the room. Was the roof missing? He had never remembered a morning at the Weasley's that was this bright.

After a few moments, he pushed up off the bed and felt a large headache hit him suddenly. His whole head throbbed. He winced in pain and laid back down. His mouth felt unusually dry, and he found his memories of last night hazy at best. He was hungover. It all made sense at last.

He turned to the bedside table and found a mug of water waiting for him. In his mind, he thanked Mrs. Weasley. He could always count on her to carry him to bed and leave him some water for the morning. She really was a blessing, that woman.

When Harry grabbed the mug, he discovered that it was not water inside it, but a tea of some sort. He sniffed it a couple times, finding its odor rather peculiar, almost like the comfort of bacon and eggs. He took a sip and a warm feeling began running down his throat and throughout his veins. Harry sighed in relief, finding the room was not so bright any longer. Though Harry had searched and searched back in his younger years for the hangover cure, he would confess that Mrs. Weasley had the best treatment around. He didn't know if it was magic, but he didn't really mind either way.

Harry took a large gulp of the tea laying on his side, cafeful not to spill, and placed the cup down. He readied himself for another attempt at sitting up, hoping he would feel less of a headache through the process. He decided to stretch out his arms, but found that his left one hit something on the bed next to him. Harry turned, startled, to the figure now moving underneath the sheets beside him.

"Tom?"

Tom hissed and grabbed the sheets to cover his head completely underneath their darkness.

Harry, confused, could think of nothing but to poke him awake. "Why, _in Merlin's name_ , are you in my bed?"

Tom growled a few times, but ultimately did not make a motion to move or answer.

Harry sighed. "There's some nice tea on the bedtable. It'll make you feel loads better."

With much difficulty, Tom turned his body to face the bedside table, reached out for the tea and pulled it under the covers for him to drink.

Harry just waited, deciding to drink his tea, as well. After a moment, Tom pushed away the sheets and sat up. His usually perfectly-styled dark brown hair was sticking up on one side, as if it were magnetized to the ceiling. Harry attempted to hide a giggle.

Tom turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Do _not_ laugh at my state, _Potter_ , as you are just as bad, _if not worse_ , than I am currently," he hissed.

"Someone's grumpy," Harry mumbled just loud enough for Tom to hear. He took another gulp of tea and set the mug back down. He tossed his legs over the side of the bed and stretched his arms, as he had meant to do before. It was nice to feel the movement in his muscles. Harry smiled when he was done and stood carefully, finding he was perfectly able to do so. There was not a bathroom in this room, nor a mirror, as all the walls were blank. Harry instead looked hard for his reflection in the window to the right of the bed. He could just barely make out the ruffled craziness that was his hair, the darkness in his face, and the redness in his eyes. He didn't look too terrible. He had been worse.

It was quite hilarious, though, to see Tom in this state. He'd never even seen a hair out of place on Tom's head—except, of course, that day at Tom's house where Tom had been moping for a while in his bedroom. Compared to that day, this Tom was much more disheveled. There were lines on his face, and a flush to his cheeks. His hairstyle was present, but most certainly ruined in every fashion. His clothes that he had worn yesterday were wrinkled and bunched up in places, obviously slept in. Harry found himself amused at how normal he looked.

"What are you staring at?" Tom asked, not quite angry, but not quite casual.

Harry shrugged, smiling boyishly. "I dunno. Just…you. You're a right mess."

Tom frowned. "It was very unclear how potent the fire whiskey was, and I never intended to consume so much." Tom took another large gulp of his tea. "Honestly, I am unsure of how I made it through even one glass." He shook his head, attempting to clear his vision a bit.

Harry nodded. "It was very good whiskey. I rather enjoyed it." Harry attempted to recall what had happened after he finished his glass. "Not sure I acted like I enjoyed it." He could remember feeling sad, but much after that was a blur.

Without hesitation, Tom downed the whole mug of tea, swallowing it with ease. He turned to toss his feet off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. He did not try to stand, but instead let his upper body fall back onto the bed, closing his eyes.

Harry watched curiously. He'd never seen Tom act this way before. He wondered if he was alright. He walked over to the foot of the bed and leaned over Tom, staring down at his face. The longer he looked, the more he thought it an unfamiliar face. He noticed each of his features separately, and then together, making a completely different face than the one he had gotten used to. He was unsure of just how, or why, his mind was doing such a thing.

"Tom," Harry said softly.

Tom below him opened his eyes. Harry noticed how they were a lighter shade of brown than normal, like a hazelnut rather than a chocolate. Perhaps, Harry thought, it was the white sheets. He considered, for a short moment, that maybe he liked how they looked against Tom's pale-cream skin.

"Why were you sleeping in the same bed as me?"

Harry saw the rise and fall of Tom's chest underneath the crumpled, worn button-up he wore. As his chest expanded, Tom's body caused the shirt to smooth out a bit, filling it out perfectly for just a moment before his breath released and his chest fell.

"An excellent question that may present itself to me in a few moments," Tom said, his eyes turning away from Harry and stared at nothing, as if he was concentrating on something else. "It is coming back slowly, but I am remembering nonetheless."

Harry stood up straight and looked to the empty mug of tea on the bedtable on Tom's side. Drawing a conclusion, he grabbed his own mug and drank the remaining contents quickly, finding his tea may have been a bit too hot for him to do so comfortably. His tongue and throat were a bit scalded, but his mind began to clear. He recalled, for a moment, the feeling he had that night he spent in Blaise's room, sitting on that enchanted bed. He wondered, for a moment, how the girls at Beauxbatons were faring without Blaise's parties to rid of their boredom.

His memories returned to him quite quickly. It had _not_ been Mrs. Weasley to carry him up, but Tom. How in the world had they stumbled so far up the stairs? Harry could hardly walk.

"How did we manage to walk up the stairs?" Tom asked himself quietly, but Harry could hear.

Harry shrugged, though Tom could not see him. "We just…kept at it. Didn't stop until we were up them, I suppose."

Tom replied, "That does seem to be what occurred." He shook his head and sat up. "I apologize for my behavior last night." He began straightening himself, though was unsuccessful at smoothing his clothes or his hair. "I am sure that you understand I had no capability of controlling myself at the time due to…" he sighed, "unexpected intoxication."

Harry almost laughed. For a moment, he was seeing Tom as a normal person. He was someone who made mistakes, woke up with messy hair and clothes, had a hangover the next morning. Maybe Tom had realized it, too, Harry thought. That's why he's trying to fix it.

"No need to apologize, Tom. I got up to a bed. I might've fallen asleep at the table if you hadn't taken me up here." Harry smiled, hoping the human part to the former Dark Lord would return. "Thanks."

Tom did not look back at him. He knew he was disheveled to the utmost degree and was rather embarrassed for not only being drunk, but sleeping in the same bed as Harry. Tom Riddle did not share a bed with _anyone_!

Tom let out a shaky breath. Had he referred to himself as _Tom Riddle_? The name he despised more than anything else? He was _not_ his father. He would _never_ be his father.

"Are you alright, Tom?" Harry asked, concerned.

Anger flowed into every limb of Tom's body, brightening his cheeks and causing his hands to ball up into fists. " _Do not call me that filthy name!_ " he yelled. He needed to part himself from everything and think. His body began to shiver. He forced his feet to carry him hurriedly from the room, down all the stairs, and through the front door. As he stepped outside, he tripped over Janet.

"Ow!" She exclaimed, covering her hands over her head suddenly.

Tom tumbled down the steps to the ground. His head hit the ground hard, as he had not prepared to land. In moments, he pushed himself up on his elbows, ready to unleash a fury of curses at her, but found his anger lost upon looking again for the first time without restraints or blood covering her.

Janet was covered in fading bruises, causing the little patches of unharmed skin to appear so terribly pale in comparison. Her eyes were dark and sunken into her skull. All the cuts she had before were gone, but Tom could still see scars from older ones that had not had magic to heal. As she attempted to hide herself under her arms, Tom could see the joints of her shoulder and elbow jut out from the thinness of her upper arm and forearm. The rest of her was thin, too. He could see her ribs, though the way she was hunched over would cause even the thinnest of people to have their stomach and sides ripple. Janet's stomach was not flat, but caved in.

Harry opened the door a second later. He took in the scene and kneeled down beside Janet. "Are you alright?"

Janet moved her arms and sat up cautiously. She shook like a leaf, as if a large gust of wind would carry her away to the unknown.

"I apologize greatly," Tom said, standing and brushing the dirt off himself. "I was not looking where I was going."

Tom watched Janet as Harry spoke quiet, reassuring words to her, keeping his distance. She had not seemed to hear Tom's apology. He was sure it would not have made a difference. The way her large round eyes teared up, he was sure nearly anything might've set her off.

She was weak, a part of him thought almost automatically. The best she deserves is someone's pity.

Tom turned his attention to Harry. Harry was careful with her, taking the utmost care not to touch her or say something too loudly and startle her. As Tom evaluated it, he realized that was not pity. Of _course_ Harry doesn't pity her, that part of him said. He's Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived, Golden Child of every wizarding home.

But Harry was no longer a child. He was grown. He had children, a family, a job. He was no longer the Golden Child of anything. He wasn't the only one fighting in the war against Thomas. He had seen how Harry had cared about many, from his kidnapped friend to his ex-wife. Even Tom. He'd saved him from the clutches of Thomas (a monster he had not meant to create) and ensured he was housed, fed, and protected just as his friends were. Tom would define that as "noble." He used to think the word an insult. Now, he thought, maybe it was not so terrible. He wondered further that, if Harry was noble, what was he? Tom was not noble, but he wasn't quite evil anymore. He didn't have the capability to be. At times, he missed that power. At other times… he wasn't sure.

Harry smiled now. "It's alright," he said softly to Janet. "It was an accident. Are you sure you don't want to come inside? No one will touch you, or do anything without your permission."

After a moment, Janet nodded and began to stand. Harry was quick to move out of her way, holding open the door for her.

"We have blankets piled up in this corner. If you are cold, you can use as many as you like." Harry smiled again. "And if you get hungry, Mrs. Weasley is making some soup. If you would like some, you're welcome to have some as soon as it is ready."

Janet disappeared into the house. Harry shut the door carefully behind her, turning his attention to Tom.

Tom had not been listening before to what Harry said to Janet, but he found he was now confused at how he had just treated her. While he had not exactly been rude, he had told her to get her own blanket and food.

"Why not give her a blanket and soup? Is that not polite?" Tom asked.

Harry sighed. He walked down the steps and stood before Tom with a sad expression.

"Do you have any idea what she's been through, Tom?" he replied softly.

"Clearly, she was tortured on a regular basis." Tom glanced over Harry, unsure of why Harry was asking.

"She was kidnapped," Harry said even quieter, looking to the house a moment to make sure he was unheard. "Thomas didn't just torture her. He raped her, abused her, controlled every aspect of her life because he thinks that she is his dead wife."

Tom carefully took in a breath, measuring the amount of emotion he gave off. Did he want to seem sympathetic? Would that work in his favor? He released his breath in a shaky manner and turned his eyes to the ground. Surely that was what Harry wanted to see. Tom wondered, for a moment, if he really felt anything at all but anger, or if he just acted as if he did.

"I don't want to alarm her or invade her space. I'm sure she needs time until she will be comfortable with that again, if she ever will be." Harry took in a deep breath and let it out.

Tom nodded. He was sure that he did not like looking at Janet. It reminded him of a time when he had been neglected and abused. He hated the thought. He concluded that he _could_ be empathetic, if he wanted to. He just chose not to be. Was that such a terrible crime?

"I'm sure you can understand that." Harry looked at Tom, trying to mask his sympathy. Tom did not want his sympathy.

"That was long ago," Tom hissed. What an insult, he thought. As if I am a poor helpless person in need of healing.

Harry's sympathy disappeared as his eyebrows drew closer together, his eyes unsure. "What is your problem?" Harry asked, confused.

Tom did not respond. Harry's expression faded and he sighed.

"Tom," Harry said, some exasperation in his voice. "You help me rid of the posters at Hogwarts and rescue Hermione and Janet from Thomas without protest, but then you yell at me for calling you by your name and clearly do not want me to mention your past." Harry looked, unfaltering, into Tom's eyes. "Do you want to be a human being or not?"

At this question, Tom was unsure of what to say. "I…If I recall correctly, I am a human being whether or not I have the desire to be so."

Harry huffed. "A _relatable_ human being? Before you got out of your portrait, you were such an ass. No one could see you as anything but the Dark Lord because _that's how you acted_." Harry's voice was rising. "Now, you are giving me all these impressions that you are a different, actually decent person, but you constantly refute them. It's like you're trying to be the same person you used to be." Harry shook his head. "You are _far_ past that."

Tom said nothing. He knew Harry was right. He didn't want to let him know he was right, but what was the point? His façade was over. He had to face it.

"I do not know who I am," Tom whispered. He felt bare and vulnerable, as if any hawk flying overhead could swoop down and snatch him up for lunch at any moment. Harry was no hawk, but Tom was not sure that he wasn't something just as bad.

Harry's frustration faded, but did not leave completely. Tom could see Harry wanted to yell at him like Tom had yelled earlier. He hoped that maybe, by some miracle, Harry would yell and he would be taken back to his house to sulk in the person he used to be.

"I understand," Harry said after a moment of silence. "I don't know who I am, either. I thought I was some hero, a perfect hero in everyone's eyes." He shook his head. "I'm not that anymore. I'm grown. I've made mistakes." Harry took in a breath. "And I've moved past it."

Tom said nothing. He held his composure, pretended he felt nothing. If he pretended long enough, he would believe it was truly nothing. It was how he had lived his life.

"Tom," Harry spoke up again, "Don't try to be some all-powerful dark wizard. That's now who you are anymore. Just…" Harry thought a moment, "add up the actions you've done. Is that who you want to be?"

Tom looked away from Harry. He wasn't sure what he wanted. A part of him longed to be the same man he had been for so long. He was frightened that if he wasn't, he'd return to the helpless child he had been long before that. He would never let that happen. But if he could not be that man, who was he?

Before Tom could react, Harry grabbed his wrist, and they disapperated just as Mrs. Weasley cried out, "Lunch is ready!"

They landed in Tom's library. Harry released his wrist and began walking to the fireplace with a purpose. His wand in his right hand pointed at a chair to transfigure it, but Tom stopped it.

"There's a letter opener above the door," he said.

"Oh," Harry said simply, feeling silly for a moment. He held out his wand to the doorframe and the letter opener came rushing through the air to his hand. With it, he pricked his palm and let the blood fall into the fireplace.

"Why are we here, Harry?" Tom asked with little emotion. The door to the lab swung open and Harry marched inside, fearlessly. Tom rolled his eyes, but followed Harry inside.

Harry picked up a book from a stack and began flipping through them in a flurry. "No…no…" he muttered. One by one, be flipped through and put them back. When he finished the pile, he went back into the library and began looking at those books.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Tom stood between the lab and the library, watching Harry disappear into the bookcases.

Harry did not answer. Instead, he emerged with a rather large book in his hands and a large smile on his face, flipping page after page. As he neared Tom, he found the page he was looking for.

"Here!" Harry laughed. He pointed to one line. "You read this line and I'll read the next."

Tom stared at Harry. "Harry, why-"

" _Read_ it," Harry insisted.

Tom sighed. He looked to the page, found Harry's finger, and read in a monotonous voice, "'Thou hast undone our mother.'"

"'Villain!," Harry read with ferocity, "'I hast _done_ thy mother!'" Harry waited with a smile for Tom's reaction.

There was none. Harry pressed his lips together and began flipping the pages again muttering, "That was a _classic_. Honestly."

Tom placed his hand over the book between pages and pushed it down so Harry would listen to him.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Tom's voice was growing angry.

Harry grew a bit smaller in stature, as if he was younger than he was. "Looking for a good joke. I promised."

Tom's brows furrowed. " _That_ ," he released the book, "was a _joke_?"

Harry nodded. "I suppose if you haven't read the story it's not quite as funny."

Curiously, Tom tipped up the book so that he could see the cover. " _The Complete Works of Shakespeare_ ," he read, finding himself intrigued. "And this was in my library?"

Harry nodded again. "You haven't read any of it?"

"No," Tom answered. He grabbed the book, wondering how it had gotten here. Had he forgotten it? He had often been distracted the last time he was alive. He supposed it could have passed his notice.

"Well, that story is _Titus Andronicus_. Big Roman story with lots of drama and death. You might like it. Or, if you fancy something more devilish…" Harry flipped the pages backwards until he reached the play he was looking for.

" _Richard the Third_ …" Tom read curiously. "How is this one devilish? It's about a king. Of England, I presume."

Harry smiled. "That's the thing. Richard was thought to be evil. He's the main villain _and_ the main character."

"Very interesting…" Tom began scanning the page. The book had an introduction to the play that he began to read over, finding himself very intrigued, indeed. For a moment, he paused. "How do you know of these stories?"

"My aunt and uncle, actually. They kept the book around. Thought it made them seem educated or something. I didn't have much of a life outside of the school and chores, so I spent my free time trying to get lost in stories. I liked plays, mostly because you get to read it and imagine how it was happening in your head." Harry shrugged. "You had the dictionary, I had Shakespeare."

Tom spared a glance away from the book and to Harry. A part of him hated that he knew so much about his past, yet there was another part of him that saw the knowledge was being reciprocated. He thought that there was an ever growing list to things they had in common. He wondered what else they shared during their terrible childhood years.

Suddenly, Tom closed the book. "Well, I am not certain we have time to waste on this."

Harry's expression faded into something else. He seemed to age in an instant, gathering wrinkles on his face and dark circles under his eyes. "Yes, I suppose you're right. We ought to be planning our next move."

Tom felt the drop of Harry's spirits, and felt an absence of something in himself. He wanted that Harry to return. "Well, we do have a new tactic at our disposal. One that Thomas can never get his hands on."

Harry sighed. "Do I really have to learn Parseltongue? In the middle of a war?"

"We might be able to use another method." Tom turned to his bookcases. There were so many of them. But which one did he need? He gave the Shakespeare book back to Harry and walked briskly down an aisle, trying to remember a time roughly 24 years ago, when he had first delved into the depths of his studies.

"Another method?" Harry asked, unsure of what to do with the large book in his hands. He didn't quite remember where he got it from. He carried it along with him as he followed Tom down the aisle.

Tom was quietly reading the titles of each book to himself at rapid pace, so that it all sounded like vague gibberish to Harry. At nearly the end of the aisle, Tom stopped and removed one book from the shelf.

"This is the book I read when I first realized our mental link through the horcrux."

Tom held the book lightly in his hands, as if it were a piece of history. And as Harry looked at it, it seemed to be. The leather cover was worn beyond repair, and many pages seemed to be trying to fall out.

"What's it called?" Harry asked.

Tom opened the cover carefully to the title page. " _Paranormal Connections: The Dead, The Living, and Beyond; A Guide for the Weary, Dead, and/or Curious Witch or Wizard, From 210 to Modern Day_. What an interesting title."

Harry scoffed. "Interesting? It's almost an entire page, it's so long."

"Back in the era this was written," Tom began, carefully flipping the pages, "and I assure you, it's era is _extremely_ far from modern day-titles were meant to be a cover-all summary of the book. Everyone wanted to know what exactly they were reading."

"How'd you get this book?" Harry asked, realizing the pages were handwritten, not printed.

"I killed a man," Tom replied, nonchalant.

Harry's attention snapped from the book to Tom. "Did you really?"

"No," Tom said, attempting to focus on reading, "I had someone kill him for me."

Harry's mouth opened to say something, but could think of nothing to say. Had he really killed a man just for a book?

"Here," Tom said, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "It explains the connection we had. As I recall, you could only speak Parseltongue because I spoke it. None of the knowledge was in your head, so you have no memories of the words and their meaning. I, on the other hand, diligently learned and spoke it for most of my life. For this reason, I can still speak it even after losing my magical abilities."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"So," Tom flipped a page, though he was no longer reading, "in order to bypass learning the language, which has already proven difficult enough for you to speak, let alone understand, my conclusion is that we will have to reestablish the connection so that you have my knowledge of Parseltongue."

"Reestablish the connection?" Harry asked, confusion apparent in his tone. "How?"

"Well," Tom replied, closing the book carefully, "it might be better to say we need to create a new connection."

"Create a new connection?" Harry asked, even though he instantly placed the pieces together in his head. "What do you mean?"

Tom sighed. "We would need to create another horcrux."

Harry was breathless. "Create another horcrux?" He could hardly believe the words he had just heard, even spoken. "Are you honestly asking me to do that?"

Tom gave him a stern look. "Would you rather take the time to learn the whole language?"

 _Utterly unbelievable_ , Harry thought. " _Yes!_ I would," he answered. "I would rather learn the language than kill a person and create a terrible piece of dark magic as a shortcut."

Tom scoffed. "You do _not_ have to kill a person. You simply have to be around when they are murdered."

Harry threw his hands in the air and raised the volume of his voice. "Brilliant! That's loads better! Let me just mess with someone's soul _and_ my own! I don't want to split my soul, Tom!"

Once again, Tom sighed. "Then split mine."

Harry shook his head. "No! No one is going to be splitting any souls! End of discussion."

Tom's mouth drew into a scowl. "How are we to teach you an entire magical language without years of practice?"

"Are you so _completely_ frightened of dying that you must continue to create horcruxes?" Harry's tone rose with anger. "That is evil magic! Magic that Voldemort did!"

Tom sneered. "Yes, and when all my Death Eaters used the unforgivable curses the side of the light used nothing but paralytic charms and grade level curses," he said sarcastically. "Sometimes this magic is necessary to use no matter the morality of the party involved."

"Curses are one thing!" Harry yelled, "But splitting a soul is another entirely! It's unnatural!"

"And normal magic fits completely under your definition of natural, then." Tom's eyes narrowed and his pale face began to grow red on his forehead and cheeks.

Harry gave a shout of frustration. "Just because we _can_ to do something doesn't mean we _should_! We're not meant to mess with our bodies like that!"

"But why give us the ability if we cannot utilize it?"

Harry's magic began to fly around him, rattling the bookcases a bit as they began to sway. "I don't know! But it's bad."

"As if you know even an ounce about bad." Tom could see Harry's fury flying about him. Sparks came off the enchanted lights, and though the bulbs did not flicker, they were beginning to dim. He was intrigued.

"I know how to _defeat_ bad!" Harry screamed. The anger felt like it was stuck in his throat in a large, dense lump. He was trying not to lash out with his arms, but he was certain somewhere in the back of his mind that his magic may do it for him.

"But you cannot defeat it permanently." All of Tom's anger was gone. He was simply watching Harry, wondering what he could further his anger into. "Clearly," he added, deadpan.

Harry closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. He would not get angered. He didn't have time for it. He had a war to win.

"Tom," he said at last in a collected tone, "you'll have to find another way or it's not happening."

Tom's eyes narrowed. "There is no other way."

"Have you bothered to look?" Harry asked. "Or are you really telling me we have a whole world of magic and there is no way for me to-"

Harry turned to see a white, misty horse gallop towards him from across the room. Upon seeing it, his heart pounded in his chest, awaiting worriedly for the news.

"Harry," Ginny's voice stated urgently, "I've lost Gemini! We were in the house, and I put up extra warding, but the kids say he was there one moment and gone the next. He's not here. We've searched everywhere."

Harry and Tom shared a short glance. It did not take much to think of where Gemini had gone.

With a quick flick of his wand, Harry sent a silvery stag in reply.

"Do you think he's taken him to the torture house?" Harry asked Tom softly.

"It may be a good place to begin searching." Tom pondered a moment. "He may not need saving."

Harry's brows furrowed. "Not need saving? If Thomas took him, think of what he would do to a son he didn't want. He's only a first year student."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "A student with extraordinary abilities. A student that you have been training."

"I've only taught him for a week," Harry replied, incredulous. "We never even made it to one animagus training. He might have extraordinary abilities, but he may not be able to use them very well. Or even completely understand how they work."

Tom did not know how to respond, so he simply did not.

Harry huffed. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was all an act. You haven't changed at all. You're still Voldemort, deep inside." He shook his head. "And I don't have time for him."

After a moment of silence, Harry disapperated, just barely dropping the heavy Shakespeare book to the ground with a thump before he disappeared.

Tom stared at the book a moment. What on earth was wrong with him? Why could he not shake this person he once was? Did he even want to be that person any longer? It was difficult to say. He had always wanted power to prevent himself from being weak. He stayed with Harry, feeding off his protection, even allowing himself to fight alongside him, as if he himself were powerful like he is. If he could not truly be these things, what could he be?

Tom picked up the book, opening it up to a random page right in the middle. He flipped onward until he reached the play he was looking for: _Richard_ _III_. He made his way over to a chair and began to read.


	27. The Prophecy

 

Sybil Trelawney awoke from her hotel bed with a start, her head popping right off the pillow and her socked feet swinging right onto the floor, awaking Portia, who was sleeping beside her.

"The boy!" she exclaimed.

Portia groaned. "Sybil, please, Lay down. Rest for a bit longer."

Sybil hopped from one foot to the other. "No, no, we must head back. I must speak with Dumbledore."

With a sigh, Portia sat up. "Dumbledore is at Hogwarts. It's no longer safe there. We really must stay here, Sybil. It is very dangerous to speak with Dumbledore right now."

Sybil stopped hopping and stood at the end of the bed to stare at Portia with her startlingly clear eyes. "There was the fire. Then the man. The man had the patch, but it was fake. He was hiding from…" Sybil's eyes slipped back into the mist, returning once more after a moment, "And then the boy. The boy of air. He needs a cloak. They _all_ need cloaks. The man, the _father_ …he has a snake…" Sybil squinted her eyes, as if there were a map on Portia's face that was just a bit too far away. "No…a dragon. He's a dragon to make fire of the air…but…" Sybil's clarity faded. "No, no, no. I must see!"

Portia got out of bed reluctantly. She had thought for a moment, maybe, Sybil had been speaking about something other than her muttered words. The move out of Hogwarts had really begun to set her off on her rants more and more. Yesterday had been quite a nightmare. "Sybil, would you like some tea?"

"Yes, tea! Of course! Lavender, please!" Sybil began to dance around in her nightgown.

Portia slipped past Sybil and to the tiny kettle she had brought with her, hanging on the door like a coat. She picked it up and used her wand to fill it with water and then to bring it to a boil. In moments, the water was ready. She placed not one, but two tea bags into a teacup and poured in the water. "No sugar, yes?"

Instead of answering, Sybil grinned and twirled.

Portia placed the cup on the bedside table and sat on the bed, watching her twirl for a moment and waiting for the tea to seep and cool. Her eyes were tired and her body sore, as if she had not slept at all last night. She yawned as Sybil stopped twirling.

"Is it ready?" Sybil asked.

"Just nearly," Portia replied. "It needs to cool a bit."

In moments, Sybil pulled out her wand a flicked a spell at the teacup. It spun in place, tipping just slightly before landing back on the bedside table, still. She picked it up, finding it perfectly warm, and gulped down the beverage quickly.

For a second or two, she simply stood there, waiting for something that Portia did not understand. Portia yawned once more, closing her eyes and stretching her limbs out as far as they would go. When she opened her eyes again, she watched as Sybil dropped the empty teacup, letting it shatter on the hard wooden floor.

"Sybil!" Portia exclaimed, taken aback.

She did not respond. Rather, Portia watched as her eyes clouded over, as if another being were invading her body.

Sybil began to speak, in a voice misty, dark, and foreign. " _The time for the pair approaches, joined for a boy with the power of the wind…the boy's father will set fire to the earth, hiding behind a curtain of lies…together, the three can reveal his weakness before he can release the fiery beast…the time for the pair…approaches…_ "

Sybil began to wheeze, but then inhaled and was released from the trance. Her weak body fell to the floor.

Portia ran to her side. "Sybil! Sybil!"

Sybil opened groggy eyes. "My, I had a pleasant sleep." Her content expression turned confused as she stared at Portia. "Is something wrong, dear?"

Portia's mouth lay open in shock. What had she just witnessed? She was unsure. "You dropped your cup, Sybil."

Sybil looked beside them and saw the broken cup. "Oh, I've made such a mess." She stood, looking about her. "Well, I suppose a spell will do the trick." She pulled out her wand and performed a quick repairing charm. "There we are. All better." Sybil yawned. "I think I shall take a small nap."

In moments, Sybil was in bed, asleep almost instantly.

Portia, still frightened, apparated quickly to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Portia, pleased to see you," Hannah said upon her arrival from the table she sat at, talking to some Cauldron regulars. "It's been so long."

"I've something to tell the Order," Portia said at once.

Hannah's expression grew serious and concerned. She stood, glancing about with some suspicion. "Are you alright, Portia?"

Portia's eyes were wide and panicked. "Sybil's just made a prophesy."

* * *

As Harry arrived outside the house, he could hear the argument occurring inside. For a moment, he just watched as the voices of his children raised into the air. He could remember a time when it was his voice rising, probably audible from outside. He could remember breaking Ginny's heart a bit more every night and then leaving.

The house was small-ish, painted a light red with dark wood trim. It seemed so grey now, as he looked at it, as if it were a picture and not really before him now. He seemed to barely remember certain things about it, like how there were pebbles in their front garden and not soil, and how the roof was a dark grey, not grey-brown. Had he imagined those things? Or had Ginny changed them since he was gone?

Harry had felt sorry not too long ago. He felt as if everything he had done had been a mistake, but it really had been part of an elaborate plan. He didn't lose his job, people were bribed to fire him. Ginny didn't hate him. She was brainwashed by the Ministry. He could debate with himself forever on whether or not the divorce was real or not, but it didn't matter. Their marriage was over. He knew he didn't want to be with Ginny, so the divorce was real enough. Harry wasn't sure he should care about it any longer.

Harry made his way into the house. When he tried to open the door, he found it locked. He knocked loudly, hoping to get someone's attention over the yelling.

"He said he had to do it himself!" James shouted behind him as he opened the door.

"Dad!" Lily ran to hug him.

Harry gave a small smile and let the girl squeeze him.

"Dad, James let Gemini leave!"

James sighed. "I told you all that we had a talk! He said he needed to do this!"

"What did he say he needed to do?" Harry asked.

The children quieted, all looking between themselves. From behind them, Ginny emerged from the kitchen. Her eyes were locked on Harry.

"Let's talk about it over lunch," she said quietly.

They all made their way to the dining room, taking their old spots at the table: Harry at one end, Ginny at the other, Albus and Lily on one side, and James and an empty chair on the other. Everyone put turkey and potatoes on their plate, but no one touched their food.

"We were all in the house just talking," started Lily. "Nothing unusual. Just classes and such. We didn't know what was going to happen if the whole school year was canceled. Would we just restart the same courses next year or move to the next courses and cover twice as much material."

"Then Gemini said he may not even go to school," continued Albus. "We asked him why, and since James and I didn't know about the whole father thing yet, he told us. But that didn't make sense for why he wouldn't go to school."

"Then Mum called us from the kitchen. She said she had heard something, so she wanted to make sure we were close by her," Lily said.

"But then Gemini pulled me back into the room after they left it," James said. "He told me that he felt like he needed to understand his father. I told him to ask you, but he said that his father was coming to pick him up. I didn't understand, but I told him to stay here, or at least wait until we could go with him, but he said he didn't want to cause danger to us." James swallowed. "He said that the Death Eaters weren't after us, they were after him. He said he had to go to protect us, and that his father promised that he wouldn't hurt him. He said…he said he needed to do it, and he needed to do it alone." James stared at his plate. "He told me that we were the best family he had ever had, but that maybe he wasn't made to have a family." James shrugged. "And then he let go of me. I went to Mum. I didn't look back. I don't know who took him or how. He was just gone."

The whole table was dead silent as they all stared at their plates or each other.

Lily had tears in her eyes. She broke the silence in a soft, quiet voice. "So he chose to leave."

Harry didn't feel hungry, and he was sure no one else was either. He stood from his chair but did not leave the table. "Have you improved the warding?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes. There was so much protection before, but I've now made the house untraceable to everyone but a select few. We should be safe."

Harry nodded. "I'm going to find a small team for a rescue."

Ginny's brows furrowed. "Made of who? Everyone's got a post right now. If you take even a single person, the protection of the students and their families is compromised."

Harry sighed. "Then I'm off to St. Mungo's."

"For what?" Ginny stood now, too. "The aurors are sick. Some of them can barely walk, let alone go on a dangerous mission."

"I need to see for myself what's taking them so long." Harry's jaw set. "They should have been healed by now."

"It was very dark magic. They can't just instantly be ready to go back out to fight!"

Harry watched Ginny's face becomes fierce, as if she was the immovable object preventing him from going. He used to like that about her. Now, he realized that wasn't what he enjoyed. But it didn't matter. He was free from her.

"Thank you for your opinion," he began. "I'm going to go check, nonetheless." He turned to leave, but added, "Go to the Burrow. If they can get in this house once, they can do it again, regardless of the warding." With that, Harry turned and walked out of the house.

When he reached the air outside, he felt so much freer, as if there had been no oxygen inside to breathe, but now he could breathe to his heart's content. As soon as he left the property, he disapperated, landing just before the glass doors of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He walked in, finding the hospital almost entirely deserted. The blonde welcome witch simply stared at him.

"Um, could you tell me where the aurors are? I'd like to visit them," he said, unsure.

"Floor twenty and a half," she answered in a monotone, not bothering to tear her eyes from Harry.

"I'm sorry. Twenty and a half?" Harry's brows furrowed in confusion.

The welcome witch sighed. "Just go to the elevator and press button 20 and 21 at the same time."

"But, I thought there were only five floors to this hospital." Harry looked about curiously. Nothing much seemed to have changed since the last time he was here, except that there were not witches and wizards everywhere.

"Well if you know so much, why don't you just go find them yourself?" The welcome witch then stood and vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Alright," Harry said to himself. He was sure something was wrong, he just wasn't sure quite what. As he went to the elevator, he saw a large variety of buttons, ranging from 1-30, and then some letters from the alphabet, and many symbols he did not recognize. Harry hit both button 20 and button 21, hoping that welcome witch was right. Regardless, he took out his wand.

The elevator shot up so fast, Harry nearly fell to the floor. It continued to go incredibly fast, going higher and higher with no intention to stop. The screen at the top that was supposed to say what floor the elevator was on, simply read _BYE_.

When the elevator reached the top of the shaft, it continued to shoot past it, but quickly lost momentum and all function. The floor screen was blank, and the doors began to open. Harry suddenly saw that he was incredibly high off the ground. The elevator slowed its ascent and then began to fall.

" _ **Arresto momentum**_!" Harry yelled. The elevator seemed to fall so much slower now. They were nearing the roof of the building (which most certainly seemed to have more than five floors). Harry reached out and grabbed the roof edge, letting the elevator fall without him inside. Just beside him, Harry saw a closed window. He swung a bit to be able to slide his hands closer. Soon, he was able to kick in the glass and jump inside.

He landed in an empty room. It looked somewhat like a hospital room, but did not have any beds or patients. Harry went to the open door and looked down the hallway. All the other doors were open as well. He went out the door and began walking down the hall, peeking into each room as he passed. Each one was incredibly empty.

When he reached the end, there was nothing but a window. He went back and to the other end, also finding nothing but a window. There were no stairs, or even a place for the elevator to drop a person off.

_This place is so odd. What the hell is going on?_ he thought. He pointed his wand to the ground next to where his feet were planted stubbornly.

" _ **Bombarda!**_ "

He hid his face as the floor exploded, creating a hole more than big enough for him to jump through. This floor seemed to be a repeat of the last floor, with open doors and empty rooms. He did the spell again to the floor, jumping down to the next floor, and then the next. All the rooms were empty and all the halls had no entrances or exits.

Harry popped his head out the window at one end of the hallway and counted what level he was on. "Twenty-five," he said to himself. He burst through the next four levels without much thought. "Twenty-one." He looked around. There seemed to be no stairs or patients on this floor either, exactly like the other hallways. He looked out the window once more, attempting to see through the window of the floor below him. He didn't want to burst through this floor, as he supposedly needed the floor between 21 and 20. Was what he looking for literally between them?

Carefully, Harry climbed out the window and crept down to the one below it. As he looked through, he could see nothing but an empty hallway. He kicked through, shattering the fake image.

Witches and wizards were running amuck, through every door and into the hallway. Many of them were crying, some yelling loudly. Harry climbed in, attempting to navigate through the crowd.

"There's no way out!" someone shouted.

Harry didn't recognize any of the people there. He could notice that they all had red eyes, panic present in all of them. He pushed his way through into the first room, finding a couple beds with patients lying on them and people running about them as if they weren't there. He pushed his way closer, discovering that the patients were, indeed, two of the aurors. They did not seem to be hooked up to anything, or receiving any treatment. They were just there.

Harry pulled out his wand and sent a patronus to Neville, Luna, Ginny, and Hermione. In an instant, Harry saw a ghostly otter float just above the heads of those running about.

"Bring them here, then get to the problem." Her voice sounded just as panicked as those of the people running around him. "I can't believe it! St Mungo's? A place we _trusted_."

Harry gently picked up the auror, finding him unconscious. He apparated to the Burrow where Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were waiting at the door.

"I don't know how many are there just yet. I hope all of them," Harry began, now struggling to carry the weight of the auror without the support of the medical bed below him.

Hermione summoned some cots and Harry placed the man on the nearest one.

"There are people running about mad through the entire floor. And then the other floors were empty. The elevator tried to kill me." Harry looked over the auror carefully. He seemed now to be stirring.

"Go get the others," Hermione said. "We'll extend the warding a bit to compensate." Her eyes, though strong, were brimming with concern.

Harry nodded and disapperated once more, landing on the bed he had just lifted the auror from. He braced the crowd once more to get to the other auror, lifting him and apparating.

When Harry arrived, he set down the auror on cot. The last auror he had brought in was now sitting up, and Mrs. Weasley was telling him to lay back down.

Harry went back and forth, to the next rooms where auror lay unconscious, bringing one after the other to lay on a cot in front of the Burrow. As he brought in the last one from the last room, he realized one was missing. He counted thirteen, though he did not need to. He knew who was missing.

He went back one last time, frantically struggling through the crowd of people, checking every room again, but there was only empty one bed in one room, and the room across from it was empty. He stumbled into the last room. Its walls were white like all the others, but seemed more blank, somehow. The floor was the same surgical grey title, but seemed more colorless. As he looked about it, Harry could sense something odd about it. No one was running in or out of this room. Was that a sign of something?

" _ **Homenum Revelio,**_ " Harry cast into the empty room. Nothing happened.

"Ron!" He yelled into the nothingness. No one responded.

As Harry made his way back into the hallway, he found it empty. There was no more commotion. No people crowding, running this way and that. He was alone. Harry shook his head. "No. No, no, no." He ran into all the rooms again, finding them as empty as the ones on the floor above.

He quickly ran to the end of the hallway and began to climb down to the next window. As he shattered through it, he found where the crowd had gone.

"We're trapped!" someone yelled as they pushed by him.

Harry pushed his way into the very first door, finding just a crowd of people inside, no beds. He ran to the next room, and the next. When he reached the last room, the door was locked.

"No! Come on! Open!" He cast a silent unlocking charm, finding it did no good. "Stand back everyone!" he shouted before yelling, " _ **Bombarda Maxima**_!"

The door was smashed to pieces as it exploded, and everyone around was sent flying in all directions. The crowd silenced, staying in place. Harry brushed off the debris from the door, attempting to stand. He could see into the room just barely through the dust: one bed with a person laying on top.

As Harry made an attempt to stand, he realized his feet were beginning to sink into the floor. He lifted his foot, finding the floor was like jelly, releasing his foot when he picked it up, but sending the other one deeper in. He watched as everyone around him began to sink, too, leaving the single bed in the room to head to the next floor.

" _ **Accio bed**_!" Harry shouted as the floor made it to his waist. The bed flew right to him, landing right on top of him, causing him and others around him to fall through the floor instantly. In their place, the bed began to sink, too.

As each person fell through, they began to run about as they had before, many of them almost trampling over Harry. He quickly stood, waiting for the bed to fall completely through the floor. Soon enough, it was far enough through that Harry could reach. He pulled on one leg of it, and the whole bed fell through, landing with a thud beside Harry.

The person had a bloody and beaten face, hardly recognizable except for his bright red hair that was now sticking out in all places. With tears of relief in his eyes, Harry picked up Ron carefully and apparated.

When he arrived, he walked through the rows of now conscious aurors, all being tended to by Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and now Madam Pomfrey. He placed Ron on the very last cot, feeling all at once incredibly tired and relieved.

Hermione rushed to his side. "Ron!" She looked him over carefully, not daring to touch him until his eyes fluttered open.

"'Mione…" he murmured, barely audible.

Tears came to her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him. Harry could only watch as if from a distance. All this time, he had thought the aurors were being healed. What had really been going on?

Harry apparated once more to St Mungo's, arriving instead to an empty lot. He glanced about, but found this was the place where it should be. Muggles walked on by, as if they did not even notice that a whole building was missing. Harry sighed, in a sense giving up on the whole incident. The aurors were safe. That was what mattered.

Harry apparated back to the Burrow. There were many aurors standing up now, helping Madam Pomfrey or Mrs. Weasley with the others. Harry smiled. Maybe he had would have a team after all.

* * *

Gemini had been sitting in a room for over an hour now just waiting. He'd grown rather bored of staring at the alabaster walls, birch flooring, blue patterned chairs that lined three of the walls, and the plain white door on the fourth. Mostly, he had been staring at the door, anticipating the moment that someone would walk through it.

They had promised answers, whoever sent him the message. They had told him that he could know the truth, and he could meet his parents at long last. Was that what he wanted? He was fairly sure. Even if his father was the evilest man in the world, he wanted to meet him. He wanted to know what happened to him as a baby, and what happened to his parents, and why they left him in such a god-forsaken orphanage all his life. He just wanted to know. Then after that…what happened after that? He supposed that his father wouldn't just let him go. Surely someone would come to rescue him. He didn't want to stay here longer than he needed.

The handle to the doorknob jiggled and Gemini felt his whole body go stiff. He could hardly breathe as a man stepped into the room with graceful posture, blond hair, and two eyes he had seen before in the mirror.

The man gave a small smile. "Gemini, is it?"

All he could manage was a nod.

The man began to walk towards him, his long legs carrying him with poise. He took the seat right beside Gemini. "My name is Thomas Louis Gamp. I am your father."

_Gamp_ , Gemini thought. _Gemini Gamp._

The man—his father—smiled at him once more. "I've heard so much about you, Gemini." The smile on his face faded, and he gave a sigh. "I owe you much explanation."

Gemini watched his father with curious eyes. For once, he wasn't sure how he felt. He should be nervous, and he should be angry. He should be delighted, and he should be sad. But Gemini didn't feel any of these things. "Tell me," he said quietly. "Why didn't you want me?"

His father ran a hand through his blond hair. "There is no easy answer to that question, Gemini." He let his hand fall to his lap, watching it a moment before continuing. "You were born under unlikely circumstances. I…" he let out a breath as if it had been forced from his lungs. "Your mother and I were happy for many years together. She was such a kind woman. Her name was Amayra Beech. From the moment I saw her, I loved her. She was such an enchanting woman. I thought for the longest time that a love potion must have been used on me, but it just wasn't true." Thomas gave a somber smile. "I asked her to be my wife one sunny afternoon. We had been walking about the nearby town, a sort of date, I suppose. I made her ring myself. The moment she accepted was the happiest day of my life."

Gemini watched with hungry eyes and baited breath. This was the story he had never gotten, the one he was missing in his life.

Thomas continued. "We lived together happily for many years in a quiet house in the forest. It was some time just after our third anniversary that your mother grew ill. We took her to the healers, but they said the damage had already been done. She would stay forever weak, must never travel too far, and was unable to have children." Tears came into the man's eyes, but he fought them back. "She so desperately wanted a child, and I loved her so much. I would do anything for her. That was when I went to the Death Eaters. They said they could help me, and I was desperate. In exchange for potions that would heal her, they asked for my service. I acted as their messenger for a long period, simply keeping the army informed as it fought. I fed Amayra the potions daily, and she healed. Her strength returned. She was much happier, and hopeful. I didn't want to tell her what I was doing, just to be able to see that smile on her face for a bit longer." He sighed. "But the truth had to come out.

"Amayra was heartbroken when I told her. She didn't want to be associated with any war. But the potions, I told her, were necessary for her to be strong enough to carry child. I begged her to continue to take them just until she could have a child. I promised that I would never again align with either side afterwards. She agreed. Three months later, she found that she was pregnant with you. It was a difficult time for the Death Eaters, though. I worked longer and harder to bring Amayra her potion each day, worrying that waiting too long to give them to her would instantly revert her to her weakened state, and she'd never be able to care for herself or you. It was a reasonable fear.

"The Death Eaters lost about six months into the pregnancy. I had no more work to be done, and there was no longer anyone to give me the potion I so desperately needed. I tried my best to recreate it, but it was never just right. Your mother grew weaker and weaker. She feared, more than anything, that you would not be able to make it much longer in her infertile body. Slowly, I watched as your mother died. She lost the color in her face, and the strength in her words. She could no longer feed herself, or drink water without help. One morning, I awoke and she was crying. She told me that she loved me, and to take care of you…" He paused for a moment, tears flowing from his eyes gently, "and then she died in my arms."

Gemini watched his father cry quietly for a moment. _How could such a caring man_ , he thought, _be the villain his friends wanted dead_?

"I did my best to save you. I had to cut her open and pull you out of her before she grew too cold. But something was terribly wrong. You hardly could breathe, and you did not cry. I took you to the healers as fast as I could. We were there for weeks. I never left, and hardly slept, just waiting, hoping that you would live." He looked right into Gemini's eyes. "They saved you. I was relieved but…but as I held you in my arms, all I could see was my Amayra. They kept you for a bit longer, but I went back to bury her. While we were gone, the forest had a fire, and the house was nothing but a pile of ash. She was gone. I was so heartbroken. I didn't shower, or brush my teeth. I didn't eat or sleep. The hospital deemed me unable to care for you. But you were my last piece of my Amayra. I got into a row with a doctor and was sent away to an asylum.

"They never told me where they sent you, but as soon as I was released a year later, I searched every daycare, every orphanage, every nanny. I looked all over France for you. Little did I know, they had sent you to Britain." He shook his head, as if to say he should have known better. He sighed.

Gemini did not know what to say. The story seemed heartwarming, but if he was supposed to be the bad guy, why didn't he seem like one? There was nothing evil-seeming about him. Or maybe Gemini just wanted a family.

Thomas gave a kind half-smile. "I've heard much about you. Smart. Powerful. Kind. Just like your mother." He looked right into Gemini's eyes. "I'm sure she would be proud, just as I am."

A moment of silence passed between them. Gemini wondered about his father. Where did he go wrong? And what was so wrong about him? Why wasn't he allowed to see him before now?

"Show me what you can do," Thomas whispered.

Gemini popped out of his contemplations. "What have you heard that I can do?"

"Incredible things," he responded, his eyes drifting curiously over Gemini's body, as if the power would escape from it at any moment.

"I…uh…" Gemini struggled to find words. He didn't want to disappoint his father after just meeting him, but he couldn't quite control his power. It was all emotionally driven, just like Gemini himself. He didn't know how he felt. Maybe, if he could explain all this to him…

"Don't be afraid. You won't scare me, or hurt me." Thomas's eyes grew wider with anticipation. "Go on."

"I actually can't…fully control what I do," he said gently. He hoped his father would understand. "It's all controlled by how I feel."

His father nodded, pressing the tips of his fingers together in thought. "How do you feel now?"

Gemini shrugged. "Nervous, I suppose."

He nodded once more. "And what emotions typically drive your abilities?"

"Well," Gemini began. He hadn't really thought about it before. It just…happened. "Strong emotions. Anger, sadness, excitement, fear."

Thomas stood. "I see." He took a few steps away from the chair, as if to begin pacing, but turned and stopped. In a moment, his wand was in his hand.

" _ **Crucio**_!"

Gemini fell to the floor, his whole body in sharp, unbearable pain. His body squirmed, but the more he moved, the more it hurt. He couldn't help it. He felt like he was dying. And then in a moment, it all stopped.

"How do you feel now?" Thomas asked, just as casual as before. The look in his eyes was one of hunger.

Gemini's lungs burned with how hard they were fighting for air, his body seemed to be disconnected and limp, and his head felt numb. He wasn't sure there was a word for what he felt.

With no reply, Thomas cast the curse once more.

Gemini yelped, his skin burning as though a million hot needles had pierced it. His vision blurred and the world around him began to spin.

Thomas released the curse. "How about now?"

This was what was wrong with his father. He was crazy. He was willing to torture his own son? Gemini tried to comprehend the idea, but found that he might, instead, lose his breakfast.

"Pain," Gemini answered at last, voice rough.

"Not good enough," Thomas replied. He gave Gemini a stern look, tossing the curse at him once more. "You'll get to it eventually. We have _all day_."

Tears poured from Gemini's eyes. All his muscles tensed and relaxed at an alarming rate, filled with the torturous pain. He back flexed much farther as his spine would allow. A cold sweat broke out on his skin. He was going to die.

When Thomas released Gemini once more, he was hardly breathing. His body was exhausted, but he knew now that Thomas would not cease until he could see what he wanted to see.

As Gemini opened his eyes once more, he watched as Thomas drew closer to see his eyes change to a dark, sick-looking yellow.

"There we go," Thomas said softly, crouching to the floor for a closer look at Gemini's eyes. "We're getting somewhere. Do some more, child."

"I can't," he replied. "I just hurt."

Thomas smiled. "Fine then." He stood and left the room.

Gemini just lay on the floor, begging in his mind to be rescued. He tried for a moment, to work up the energy to get up, but he found the sinking cold of the floor comforting to his aching body. He'd just been cursed. He hoped he'd never have to feel that pain ever again. His whole body no longer felt like it belonged in one piece.

Thomas quickly rushed back in. "That whole story I told you was a lie," he said. "I didn't want you! You took my Amayra from me. I left you in the forest to die. I don't know how you managed to survive."

Gemini didn't reply, but his brain worked as much as he could manage. That story sounded more like the psychopath his father seemed to be. That's why he was in an orphanage. He was not wanted. No surprise there.

"How do you feel now, boy?"

_Well_ , he thought, _all sort of hurt, I suppose._ He no longer had any hope of having the family he'd always dreamed of. His mother was dead—and he practically killed her—and his father was a lunatic who didn't want him. He wasn't wanted. _What did I do to deserve such a thing? I didn't ask to be born._

Thomas growled. "Fine!" he barked. " _ **Crucio**_!"

Before the spell could hit Gemini, Thomas was tossed backwards.

For a moment, nothing in the room moved. It was silent except for their breathing. After a moment, Thomas carefully stood back up.

"Was that you, dear child?" He smiled a large, toothy grin.

"Why didn't you want me?" Gemini asked quietly.

"Because you were a _filthy_ , murderous brat," he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "You killed your mother!"

Gemini whimpered. "No. I was just a baby. I didn't. I couldn't have."

"I was trying to save her! I fed her potions that fed her the life-force of strong wizards! She should have fed off your life, too!" Thomas threw his hands up into the air in anger. "But she couldn't let you die! She took a reversing potion. And bit by bit, you swallowed her life-force and all the other ones she had absorbed. That's why you have these goddamned powers! Within you are the souls of many wizards."

"No," Gemini said again. "I'm just a kid. I can't-"

"You hold more power than any single wizard on Earth! Even stronger than Voldemort. Even stronger than me. Maybe even Voldemort and I put together." Thomas laughed. "Especially now. Old Tom has no magic."

Surely it was a coincidence, but Gemini recognized the name as the name of Professor Potter's friend. Tom was right. His father needed to be killed.

"I can train you, Gemini. You'll be able to control your powers, and use them for whatever suits your fancy." Thomas took a cautionary step closer. "I may have not wanted you after your birth, but consider the family we could have now." Slowly, he worked into taking another step closer. "I didn't lie when I said I was proud of you. Throwing two men out a window without even touching them? You're truly gifted in ways no other son could be."

Gemini could feel him getting closer. Did he want to attack him? Surely he did. He couldn't really be considering his father's offer, could he?

"Think about all the people in your life who made the mistake of getting on your bad side. Those muggles at the orphanage. Don't you wish you could teach them a lesson?"

Gemini could feel the hatred inside him boil up. All the times they had called him Satan, not let him eat, or forced him to sleep outside all night. They hated him. No one there wanted him. They would rather him dead. And he had to return there this summer.

Unless he went with his father.

"We can teach them a lesson, Gemini." Thomas was right beside him now, speaking softly. "You'll never be subject to those cruelties ever again. Just stay here with me. We can develop you and your magic. I'll never hurt you again. You'll be my son, and I your father."

Tears stung Gemini's eyes. He wanted nothing more than to say yes. But he shouldn't…

"What do you say, son?"

There was a pull in his stomach as he made his decision. His sickened yellow eyes switched to an icy blue. His body felt a bit better, but nowhere near up-to-par. He'd really hurt after this.

In a wild rush, wind erupted from his hands, swirling powerfully until there seemed to be tornados at his fingertips. "No," he said. A second later, he released the winds into the room. Thomas stood, eyes wide and mouth agape. In seconds, the tornados joined into one larger one and swallowed him within it. It opened the door and spun right through it, closing and locking it behind it. Gemini commanded it to travel as far away from here as it could possibly get before his vision dimmed and finally went black.


	28. The Pair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to all of the wonderful women who died recently. There is Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, and Vera Rubin, to name a few, but I do not know the names of all the late women who impacted our world in such great ways. May their essence live on in the hearts of those who loved them, idolized them, and remember them.

"This student needs to be rescued at all costs!" Harry yelled. He'd been arguing with the other professors for half an hour now.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Roger Davies responded. "We need the aurors to protect the other students. Our ranks are too thin to even keep watch on them all. With all the aurors, the entire student body will be covered under our watch."

Harry shook his head. "The entire student body minus one! He's in Thomas's possession! Can't I have _one_ auror to go with me?"

"We don't have anyone to spare." Attica Bones sighed. "If Gemini _is_ Thomas's son, we can't ensure that he won't side with him. The rescue may not even be necessary. It could just be a trap."

"Harry, we really need them all: Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Draco, the aurors," Theodore Nott added. "We could even use you, if you weren't such a damn hero. If you're going to go do a rescue, it's just you."

Almost at the end of his list of objections, Harry just nodded. "Okay. I understand." He glanced at the faces of all the heads of house, stopping to really look at Neville, who had been silent through the whole debate. "Could I ask one thing, then? As an emergency measure, could you have two aurors ready to pop in, save Gemini, and pop out? Just, worst case scenario happens and he's still trapped there."

The professors all looked between each other. After a moment, Neville nodded. "We'll run it by Padma, but I don't see why not."

"Just curious," Attica began, "what entails a worst-case scenario?"

Harry did not need much time to answer. "I face off head-to-head with Thomas who is holding Gemini prisoner. At some point during the battle, I die."

Attica's eyes widened. "I see," she replied quietly.

"We'll make sure you'll have a team to rely on if that happens," Roger added.

Harry nodded. "Thank you." He suddenly felt weighed down, as if he the only possibility ahead of him now was the scenario he just explained. "I can handle the rest."

Without even thinking a moment longer on it, Harry apparated to Tom's library. He was his last hope.

Tom was sitting in one of his chairs, the large Shakespeare book in his lap. For a moment, he did not seem to notice Harry had arrived. Harry just watched him focus entirely on whatever he was reading. He looked so calm. If Harry hadn't known him, he'd have said he was a normal person. Harry truly hoped that maybe one day, Tom could be a regular person.

"I suppose you are done giving me the silent treatment," Tom spoke up at last. "Of course, it would be right when I reach a particularly enjoyable part of the play."

"Gemini's been taken by Thomas," Harry stated bluntly.

Tom did not bother to look up. "To use him for his power, most likely. I doubt he wants a heart-warming family reunion."

"I need you to go with me."

At this, Tom looked up from his book. He did not reply for a moment, but soon found he had much to ask. "Why me? Ask your friends."

Harry shook his head. "They're protecting the students and their families. They need everyone they have."

Tom raised one eyebrow. "How could I possibly be of help? You do not speak Parseltongue. We do not share a connection," Tom let his eyes fall back down to the book, "and I highly doubt Thomas will allow us to have lessons while in his presence."

Harry took in a big breath and let it out slowly. "I want to recreate the connection between us."

"Hmmm…" Tom replied, not bothering to look up from his book. "Do you honestly believe that you do not match up to Thomas's power? With your wand, you'll have no problem defeating him, if necessary."

"I'm not sure I can." Harry just stared at Tom. His brown hair was perfectly styled, a stark contrast from that morning. Harry noted that maybe Tom was expecting him to return.

"You defeated _me_ ," he replied, nonchalant.

Harry sighed. "Every time we fought, you were incredibly weak. I defeated you one piece at a time, and the last piece was the easiest."

"You were an auror," Tom replied, gesturing with one hand and not tearing his eyes from the page.

"Yes, with a group of other aurors fighting alongside me." Harry crossed his arms. He just told Tom what he had wanted to hear earlier. Why did he not just accept it? "And Thomas is a lunatic. I don't know what he could do, or when he'll do it. He is completely unpredictable, and has a student as prisoner. I'm really not willing to take the risk of possibly not winning the battle."

Tom scoffed. "You're a Gryffindor. The risk of battle is what makes you so _courageous_ and _daring_."

Harry shook his head. "Do you know what I did while I was gone? I saved the aurors from St. Mungo's." Harry began to pace, caught up in the experience he had. "It turned into a giant…I don't even know. The welcoming witch was acting really odd, telling me I needed to go the floor 20 and a half and then she disappeared. The elevator didn't go to any of the 30-something floors; it tried to kill me. Then, when I managed to make onto the actual floors of the hospital, there were no doctors or other patients. At first, the floors were empty, and there were no stairs to the other floors, so I burst through the ground. On floor 21, there was a giant crowd of random people running about, making it difficult to get the unconscious aurors from the beds and take them to the Burrow. I couldn't find Ron, so I went down to the next floor, and I found him but the floor was sinking…"

Harry looked to Tom and saw him staring back, his brows drawn together and his mouth turned into a confused grimace.

"This all happened. And I'm almost certain it was Thomas. What if I happen to find where he took Gemini and it's just another…" he searched for a word, " _funhouse?_ I don't want to be so caught up in trying to understand where I am that Thomas has the upper hand."

After taking a moment to comprehend the story, Tom slowly began to nod. "I see…" He placed a bookmark into the book—Harry wondered where it came from—and closed the book, placing it on the table beside him and rising from the chair. "Let's search the library, then."

"Search the library?" Harry asked, incredulous. He re-crossed his arms. "I thought everything you needed was in that book? What if we don't have time?"

"I never spoke a word about having the connection all ready to create. These things take time and need diligent and accurate research." Tom went down on isle, causing Harry to lose sight of him.

Harry sighed. "Well, can you perform your _diligent_ and _accurate_ research quickly? Gemini may be in serious danger." When Tom did not respond, he followed after him.

Tom was on his tip-toes, attempting to reach the highest shelf above both their heads. "I may have found something in here," he mumbled to himself, "in the chapter on the effects of consuming ghost orchid in potions…"

"What?" Harry couldn't understand a word of what he had just said.

After much difficult maneuvering, Tom had the book in his hand and began flipping through pages. "Ghost orchid. It is a rare flower native to Cuba and the Southeastern tip of America."

"Ghost orchid?" Harry asked. "How could a Cuban-American flower help us think in one another's heads? I thought we were creating a horcrux."

"We are," he answered, clearly annoyed. "Do you think a horcrux was simply a spell done around a crpse? It requires a potion to stabilize the soul of the creator. Unless, of course, the creator desires their soul to shatter into pieces when he decides to murder someone afterwards."

"Wait." Harry held out a hand, as if to stop the conversation with it. " _That's_ how a part of your soul ended up inside of me?"

"Unfortunately, no." Tom stopped flipping pages and began scanning one. "When one splits their soul into so many pieces, rebounded curses will harm it, regardless if they consumed the stabilization potion or not."

"Oh," Harry said. He had nothing else to say. He still wasn't quite sure about this process.

"Yes, here _._ " Tom pointed to a sentence on the page. _"Ghost orchid makes the strongest stabilization potions_. We will need two ghost orchid blossoms and a soul stabilization potion."

"Great," Harry replied. "How do we get those?"

"Boreas!" Tom yelled.

In seconds, the winds rushed into the library and down the aisle they occupied, knocking Harry off his unsuspecting feet.

"Boreas," Tom smiled sincerely, his teeth perfectly straight and white. Harry almost thought it made him look charming. "I need two ghost orchid blossoms and an incredibly well-made stabilization potion. Could you get those for me?"

When the winds disappeared, Harry sat on the floor, his mouth agape.

"That thing is your pet?"

"Heavens no," Tom answered. "More like a dutiful servant who knows nothing but cleaning and how to fetch."

Harry carefully stood. He'd seen Tom smile again. He rather enjoyed seeing Tom smile. It was so unlike any other smile he'd seen, and likely more rare than this rare flower he needed for the potion. A part of him, deep within his conscious mind, wanted to be the cause of such a smile.

"Right then," Tom slammed the book shut. "Now, we need a person to murder."

Harry's brows furrowed, his image of a normal Tom broken instantly. "I thought you said we could use a person who happens to have been murdered."

"Yes," Tom replied, "we murder the person."

"Uh," Harry's mouth fell open, though his eyes grew rather angered, "No. You said we could use their death _without_ having to murder them."

Tom was already browsing through other books. "Did I say that?"

Harry just stared at him, incredulous. "Yes!"

"Hmmm," he picked up another book, on a much lower shelf, and began flipping through its pages. "Well, I lied."

Harry's expression fell to stubbornness. "I can't murder someone." He shook his head. "I _refuse_ to murder someone, Tom."

"You murdered me. What difference is there?" He began scanning a page.

"Everything!" Harry threw his hands in the air, as if doing so would help make his point. Tom was just infuriating. "The person won't be the most evil wizard in the world with a ridiculous amount of lives to further his fear of dying."

"We could make it some really evil person, if you like. Someone who you believe deserves to die." Tom flipped the page and began scanning that one as well. "Then you can still be the hero you imagine."

"I…" Harry sighed. He was no longer angry. The thought of murdering someone was ghastly, but he'd done it before, on rare occasion when his team of aurors deemed it necessary. They had discussed the benefits of killing over capturing, and the dangers of keeping them alive any further. They had that very discussion the day before Harry lost his job. They had deemed it may have been best to _not_ kill the criminal. Had that been a mistake?

At last, Harry asked, "What kind of evil person?"

Tom shrugged. "There is a vast amount of different categories of evil. It honestly depends on what you would feel most justified doing. What kind of evil do you hate most?"

Tom stopped looking at his book and stared at Harry, waiting for an answer. Harry felt the pressure to answer immediately, but also the piercing nature of brown eyes that had once been ruby red. He would never forget those eyes. Those were they eyes of his nightmares. But these brown eyes, they held just as much power in them. Why did Harry not feel the same fear?

"I don't know what the different types of evil are," he managed to say after a long moment of silence.

"Well," Tom answered, "there are those who enjoy breaking the law for material wealth, those who steal ideas and credit for fame, those who want nothing but absolute power—that was me," Tom added, "and then there are those who enjoy murdering and pain of others…which is very much like Thomas, I suppos-"

"That sort, then." Harry stared back into Tom's eyes, as if this were another battle between them. He didn't want to back down, but assert his ground.

Tom, seemingly oblivious, turned away. "Wonderful. A high security muggle prison may be best to search, then."

"What?" Harry asked.

"We will find a muggle who falls under that category and kill him, no problem."

Without warning, the winds returned, ruffling Harry once more, but not knocking him off his feet. From the air dropped two flowers and a potion bottle, falling perfectly into Tom's hand.

"Excellent, thank you, Boreas. Now, could you fetch us a muggle criminal wanted for…" Tom thought, allowing the winds to blow excitedly around him for longer than Harry thought necessary, "how about we search for torture, rape, and murder. If you cannot find all three, two of the three will do."

A second later, the winds were gone.

"Where did that thing even get those things?" Harry asked, attempting to smooth his ruffled, unruly hair.

"Likely from a shop. Boreas has access to my accounts and will drop the amount of money required." Tom closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. "Let us go wait for our guest." He turned toward Harry, locking eyes for just a brief moment before walking past.

Harry turned and followed. "So, the…whatever it is, it will pay for a prisoner, too?"

"Well, I have no doubt that the sort of criminal we have in mind has no chance of parole." Tom stopped just before the center of the room. "Boreas will just take him from his cell."

Harry stood just beside him, staring at the spot he supposed the criminal would be brought to. "Wonderful. It can purchase your potion ingredients, or just plain steal you a person from just about anywhere."

"Precisely," Tom said.

After a few seconds, the winds returned, dropping a thin, plain looking man before them. His blue eyes were wide in horror, and his straw brown hair was a messy pile upon his head.

"Where am I?" he demanded. "Tell me! Who are you people?"

The winds calmed around them to just a small breeze. Tom and Harry stared at the man, not replying to any of his shouted questions.

When the man stopped shouting, Tom spoke up. "The real question at the present moment is why you are here." Tom took a step forward, sensing his power over the man to be driven not quite by fear, but by curiosity. He pressed it to his advantage. "What have you done in your life? How long have you been such a cruel man?" Tom got closer still, drawing his face closer to the criminal's, "And what drove you to be such an evil in the world?"

Harry watched, seeing Tom getting closer and closer to the man, as if he were an unsuspecting prey rather than a possible predator. Though, Harry admitted, the criminal seemed to be hypnotized, hanging on every word Tom said.

"What is your crime?" Tom seemed to hiss.

 _Maybe too hypnotized_ , Harry thought. Their faces were so close together, Harry was wondering what was going on really. It made Harry feel uncomfortable.

The man smiled. "I usually prey on pretty women at the bars, but I found a little girl to snack on. She was quite the screamer." Though the man seemed to be confident in what he said, sweat began to trickle down his forehead. "Had to bury the evidence when I was done."

"Bury the evidence?" Tom asked, "Or murder it?"

The man held up his hands, "You caught me," he said, a bit of confident smile fading.

Tom finally stood back. "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry had hardly been paying attention to what the man said. He was so focused on how close their faces had been. Why had he been so focused on that? Tom was just trying to intimidate him.

Tom glanced behind him. "Harry?"

"Come on, answer your boyfriend, Harry," the man jibed.

" _ **Silencio**_ ," Harry cast upon the man, without even bringing out his wand. Though the man tried to comment again, he found himself unable to do so.

Tom did not bother to lower his voice when he asked Harry, "Is he evil enough for you to kill? He raped and murdered a girl, and likely other women before that."

Harry stared at the man. Maybe he had a stereotype in his head of what a criminal of his magnitude should look like, but the man didn't seem to be capable of such a thing. He was all skin and bones, no scruff on his face, no dirty look in his eyes. But Tom asked him what he did, and he answered with that. He must be evil. Did he have to kill this man? He hardly knew him. Maybe that would make it easier? Harry was unsure.

"I guess," Harry answered. He would do it. The world wouldn't miss him.

"Wonderful," Tom answered. "Boreas, the potion! And the spell."

The winds started up again, and a piece of parchment fell into Harry's hands. Harry looked it over. The spell wasn't _overly_ complicated, but it would clearly take some concentration, and obviously he had to do the killing _before_ he did this, and immediately after the death…

"Harry!" Tom suddenly shouted.

As Harry looked up from the spell, he saw that the man had his arm curled around Tom's neck, beginning to choke him.

Harry pulled out his wand and tossed a quick zapping spell at the man, startling him enough to have him release Tom. Then, Harry cast " _ **Petrificus Totalus**_ " at him, freezing him in place.

The redness that was beginning to form in Tom's face faded back to the paleness it had before. Tom breathed heavily, trying to quiet his burning lungs that had been lacking air. After a moment to regain himself, Tom began to explain the spell, shooting a dirty look at the petrified man on the floor.

"The spell cannot be tracked, as there are wards all around my house to prevent such a thing. The killing curse would be preferable to use, but whatever other curse that kills its victim will be _just as good_ a substitute," Tom spat. "Whenever you are ready, Harry," Tom finished, holding out the potion and flowers for Harry to consume.

Harry took in a breath and let it out shakily. He hardly knew this man, but what he did know about him was terrible. He preyed on innocent women, and a little girl. He murdered them. He tried to murder Tom just before his eyes. This man deserved to die.

Did he want to use an unforgivable curse? Something inside him told him it was wrong. But his mind cleared itself of any other option. _There are other options_. His heart sped. _There has to be another way_. Time felt like it was closing in. _But maybe it's the only way._ He held up his wand, tip pointing at the man he paralyzed. For a long while, he could not bring himself to say anything.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Tom muttered. He downed the potion and ate the flowers while he walked to the door frame, pulling the letter opener from its frame, and walking back to the man. Without hesitation, he thrusted the knife into the man's neck, slicing and ripping, sending blood flowing to the floor.

"There," Tom said afterwards. "Now you don't have to do anything but the spell. It should even be easier, since it is not being performed on your own soul."

Shocked, Harry released the spell holding the man in place, and in seconds, the man fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. Harry took in another breath and began the horcrux spell. There was no incantation, but that only seemed to make the spell more difficult. After a moment, he could see the color leaving the man's eyes. It was time. Harry couldn't see it, but he could feel the pureness of the room, as if he were surrounded by nothing but energy. He pointed his wand at Tom, and a bright, flowing piece of light came out of him. It looked rather like molten metal, flowing round and round, much like the ceiling of the library. Harry held it carefully in the air a moment, just admiring its beauty, before he realized his hold on it was slowly fading. He quickly brought it closer to himself, and found it absorbed into him without much of a fight.

In seconds, everything was back to normal. There was no light, no (living) criminal attempting to kill them before they could kill him. Harry and Tom just stood, looking quizzically at one another. They both wondered if the process was successful.

"Well," Harry began. "Did I do it right?"

 _You did perfectly fine_ , a voice in his head whispered. It sounded like a deeper, resonating version of Tom's, as if Tom were speaking right into his ear canal. It gave him an feigned sensation of closeness.

 _This is going to get weird, isn't it?_ Harry asked in his mind, not quite sure if he should think it to himself or if he should be thinking it _to_ something, instead.

 _That depends on what you think about_ , Tom thought. _Are you afraid of what I may discover?_

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end. "I'm sort of concerned about what our link will mean," Harry said aloud. "We can think in each other's minds? We couldn't do that before."

 _When I killed your parents_ , Tom's voice inside his head purred, _my soul disintegrated, and only a small portion remained on you. Much too small to allow us much connection. But you have half my soul inside you_.

Harry sighed. He wanted to shiver, but didn't want to give Tom the satisfaction of causing it. He knew he'd get off on it. He could feel him thinking it.

 _Oh come now,_ Tom smiled outwardly. _Am I so childish?_

 _Yes,_ Harry replied, noticing that Tom smiled once again. "Can we go research Thomas now? We did this for a reason. Don't make me regret this."

"Of course," Tom answered. "Shall we begin with that torture house?"

Harry nodded, but his concern filled his body. He honestly hoped that Gemini was as far from that place as possible.

 _I agree completely_ , Tom thought in Harry's head. (Or rather, in his own head for Harry to hear in his head.)

A mutual feeling of readiness passed between their minds. Tom placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and they apparated.

The house had not seemed to change one bit since they had last arrived. The windows still showed the brightness of the day. The glass from the potion bottle they landed on was still shattered on the floor, small bits of Tom's blood on some pieces. The smooth white tiles still led from one end of the room to the other, where a dark staircase descended to Thomas's torture room.

Harry was the first to step forward, moving without hesitation straight to the stairs. Tom, who had become accustomed to see what Harry did before acting, could now _feel_ the same surge of courage and curiosity that Harry felt. It was uncomfortable and unusual in his own mind.

Harry quickly traveled to the bottom of the stairs, Tom close behind him. When they reached it, they discovered that the room had been cleared. Not even the holes where the shackles were bolted to the wall remained. The torture room had been abandoned. The pair was relieved that Gemini was not being held here, but also concerned that they now had no idea where he _was_ being held.

 _What now?_ seemed to be the question running through both of their minds. A feeling that had not yet been made into an idea passed from Tom's mind to Harry's, and Harry pulled out his wand and summoned a small piece of parchment. He inscribed a message onto it and cast a paper airplane spell upon it. It flew away, heading to Gemini, wherever he was. The parchment would inscribe Gemini's response without requiring ink. It was a simple trick he had learned while passing notes in class at Hogwarts. Well, that _Tom_ had learned.

"This is beginning to scare me," Harry said aloud, though he was sure Tom could feel it, too. "How can we differentiate between ourselves? It's like we've got no privacy."

"It will come with time," Tom responded. "For now, everything is communal. If you have secrets you do not wish to share, do not think of them."

Harry nodded. _Right then_ , Harry thought. _Don't think of secrets, think of nothing_.

The pair waited for just a moment longer, hoping the plane would return in due time. After ten minutes, Tom grew impatient, thus Harry felt it, too.

A quick thought ran through their minds: a tracking spell. Harry had never cast one before, but Tom had. With practiced ease, he sent it off after the plane, hoping Thomas did not bother warding his house against such a thing. After a few seconds, Harry knew where to go. Tom placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and they apparated once more.

They arrived before a large, plain house in a round clearing of a dark, rather eerie forest. They both understood at once that it was the house where Amayra and Thomas had lived together, which they had seen in the background of some of the pictures in the presentation Thomas showed them. It seemed to be made of the wood from the trees of the forest, built by someone who was barely experienced with house building. There were several places where the boards did not match up, and the wood appeared very rough and bumpy. The windows were incredibly crooked—somewhere between a lopsided diamond and a drooping rectangle.

As before, Harry was first to step forward. He went right up to the door, preparing himself to face Thomas. When Harry twisted the doorknob, instead of doing a complete turn to open the door, it did a half turn, and a doorbell rang.

The pair waited, not sure who they should expect to answer the door. _Likely Thomas_ , Tom thought, _he may be insane enough to answer it_.

When the door opened, it was a house elf, short and fat with incredibly wrinkly ears. "Harry Potter and Tom Riddle," it said in a voice that rather sounded like a toad that inhaled helium. "Master's been expecting you for some time now." The house elf held the door open wider, inviting them inside.

The pair was not surprised to discover that the house was enlarged on the inside. It had wood floors stained like Cherrywood. The walls were a drab white, save for the incredibly flowery accent wallpaper that spanned across the top of every wall. _His wife most likely_ , Tom thought, though Harry did not understand the necessity of such a thought.

The elf led them down a hallway to a sitting room that did not seem to match the rest of the house. It had bright alabaster walls, birch flooring, and many blue patterned chairs. Beside one of the chairs, a small lump lay in a heap on the floor, a small paper plane right on top.

Harry ran to Gemini, brushing off the plane and performing a few quick medi-spells to check his condition. He discovered that Gemini had used much of his magic, exhausting himself to unconsciousness. _His power_ , Harry thought to himself. Mixed with what he felt on the subject, Tom somehow understood. With one healing spell, Gemini's eyes fluttered open, already bright yellow.

"It's alright now," Harry said quietly to him. "I'm here with you. How are you feeling?"

"Really tired," Gemini mumbled. He rubbed at his eyes a moment.

"Can you sit?" Harry asked. "Or would you rather lay on the floor?"

"The floor," Gemini said, his voice raspy with exhaustion. "It's cool on my skin."

Harry looked him over. His pants were wrinkled, and one leg was pushed up a bit, revealing the ghost white of his ankle. His shirt was damp in some areas. Overall, he seemed to have been struggling.

"What happened?" Harry asked. He didn't notice any blood. That was a good sign, he supposed, though he knew there were plenty of ways to torture a person without ever drawing blood.

"My father…" Gemini took in a breath, "he told me my story but…then he wanted to see my power. I told him…I couldn't control them…then he cursed me. I…I used my winds to blow him…out of the room. Then I…" Gemini looked around him. "I passed out."

"We found you as soon as we could," Harry said, fixing his hair, messy and stuck to the cold sweat on Gemini's face. "We're here now."

A feeling passed from Tom's head to Harry's: someone was coming down the hallway. Tom immediately felt nervous. He was not powerful enough to face Thomas. Courage and confidence poured from Harry's mind, causing Tom to quietly and quickly make his way to him, kneeling on the other side of the boy. An understanding arose from one mind—it was unclear who's exactly—that Tom would watch over Gemini and Harry would fight Thomas. If necessary, Tom still had the letter opener on him that he could use to attack. _Only if absolutely necessary_ , Tom thought. _Also, I hardly know this child, and yet I'm to risk my life for him?_

Thomas stepped into the doorway, a creepy, toothy smile on his plain face. "Hello, boys. I was wondering when you'd show. I was beginning to think maybe you wouldn't show at all."

Memories of Gemini ran from Harry's head to Tom's, from their talk on the train to Hogwarts to their last encounter with the posters. It had only been a couple weeks, but Harry felt like he knew Gemini so much. Now, Tom did, too.

"We showed." Harry stood, wand in hand, ready to fight to the death. "Now what?"

"Glad you asked," Thomas replied, as if the conversation was casual. "I have some great plans cooking. As much as I would enjoy sharing them with you—and I really would, I'm so proud of what I'm going to accomplish—I won't." Thomas pressed his lips together in an attempt to hide his smile, but found himself drawn to laugh instead. "OH, who am I kidding? I'll give you just one clue. I can't help myself."

With a large grin, Thomas summoned a candlestick. He blew the wick until it lit. He watched it flicker a moment, the flame reflecting in his darkened one-blue one-brown eyes. Then, without warning, he dropped it. Once it hit the floor, the fire spread with incredible ferocity, consuming the walls and chairs quickly.

Alarmed, Harry stepped back, away from the flames attacking the room. Tom grabbed Harry's ankle and Gemini's arm, and Harry disapparated.

Thomas laughed whole-heartedly. "Ah, but they missed the best part!"

From the flames engulfing the room, several phoenixes arose, cawing and stretching their new wings for the first time. They all hopped to the center of the room, bringing their wings together like hands, cawing in the same rhythm. In moments, they returned to ashes, and from them, a reptilian figure arose with black eyes, dark green scales, and a smoking nose. The small dragon opened its mouth, releasing the smoke into the air. As the smoke overtook the room, the fire died. Though Thomas could not see through the smoke trapped inside the room, he knew that soon, the dragon itself would die, for the smoke was absorbing all the oxygen in the room.

"Oh, what a marvelous practice run," he said to himself. "Now let's go for the real thing." He cackled. "Ahahaha, pairfait, oui?" He turned, continuing to laugh as he disappeared down the darkening hallway.


	29. The Boy with the Power of the Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Here's to hoping 2017 is full of happiness and good memories!

"They knew," Tom explained, looking over Harry's shoulder, as Harry stood just before the doorway, blocking it.

Harry looked amongst his friends in a confused manner. He'd just came to tell Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and the kids that he'd rescued Gemini and that Thomas was planning something with fire. But there was a group with them: Hermione, Roger Davies, Neville, Attica Bones, Portia Hampsafe, Madam Pomfrey, and Padma. He'd asked what was going on, and no one but Tom had answered him.

_Knew?_ Harry thought. _Knew what?_

_Clearly, from the way they have gathered here, they figured you would return here after the rescue._ Tom scanned over each face. _And their inability to answer your simple question means they have a complicated explanation for you._

"Is everything alright?" Harry moved aside, allowing a slightly sickly Gemini into the house from the doorway. "Where are the kids?"

"In their room," Ginny replied.

"Gemini, you go on. I'm sure they want to know you're alright," Harry said to Gemini, but Padma held up a hand.

"I'm afraid he needs to hear this, too."

Harry glanced around the room. Everyone in the room had tense shoulders and concerned eyes. So they could spare this group _after_ Gemini was safe but not a second before? Harry bit back the bitterness in his tone as he said, "Alright. Is it a long explanation? Should I sit?"

Padma nodded. "That may be best."

"Let's head to the dining room, then," Harry suggested, his voice losing the energy in its tone. "There's enough chairs for all of us."

Harry led the way, Tom and Gemini just behind him, and the Hogwarts professors after them, then Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. The line wrapped around the table, sitting in order like they learned to in school. When they were all seated, the room was silent.

"So," Harry said quietly, trying to move the conversation to begin, "what've you all got to say?" Harry glanced from face to face, meeting eyes, finally, with Portia.

"Sybil gave a prophecy," she said. "She's been babbling on about it for a while now…over a decade now, I think…but I…and many others, thought it was just babbling. She finally just…said the prophecy."

Harry's brows furrowed. "Prophecy on what?"

"Well, we can't know for sure," Padma replied, "but there are four people involved in it."

"We've already figured that Thomas and Gemini are two of these people," Roger began, "but-"

"Tell him the prophecy, first," Hermione interrupted. "It won't make sense until he knows what it says."

Everyone looked to Portia. She took in a breath and began reciting the prophecy in an uncertain tone. " _The time for the pair approaches, joined for a boy with the power of the wind. The boy's father will set fire to the earth, hiding behind a curtain of lies. Together, the three can reveal his weakness before he can release the fiery beast. The time for the pair approaches._ "

_We must be the pair,_ Tom thought. _As we are now connected through our minds due to your desire to rescue Gemini from Thomas. It is logical_.

"Gemini and Thomas are the boy and the father, respectively," Roger resumed, "but we're unsure exactly who the pair is. We can guess," he shook his head, "but it's just speculation at that point."

"We've speculated that one may be you, Harry" Neville responded, "but we have a few other ideas as well."

"We rather hope you're involved in this one," Attica stated. "The prophecy doesn't talk about anyone defeating Thomas." She looked to Gemini, trying to gauge his reaction. "Surely you'd be able to do so, Harry."

"Okay." Harry folded his hands in front of him on the table. "Wonderful. Does it honestly matter who is involved in it? We know what Thomas's next big move is: fire."

"We were thinking dragon," Hermione said, "since it's one of the only creatures that could _set fire to the earth_."

"We've got Theodore and Draco keeping an eye on anything related to dragons," Padma added, "just to be sure he won't happen upon one."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's not a dragon. It's a spell. He showed us just before we left. He said he was giving us a clue as to what he had in store." Harry looked to Gemini. He was so small for his age, and yet he was woven into something so much bigger, so much more dangerous. Maybe he was the next Harry Potter.

_There is only one Harry Potter_ , Tom thought.

"What did the spell do?" Neville asked.

"He lit a candle and dropped it onto the floor," Harry answered. "It…consumed the room so fast, we hardly had time to escape, and it had only been a few seconds. I imagine that after we disapparated, the whole room was engulfed, easily."

"He plans to set fire to something _again_?" Roger asked. "He's already burned down most of London. What else could he possibly burn?"

"Hogwarts," Tom replied, "The remains of the Ministry. Homes. Places were witches and wizards of all ages frequent, such as Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, Hogsmead."

"But why?" Attica asked. "What could he gain from destroying everything?"

"It is not about what he would gain." Tom thought about rolling his eyes, but controlled the urge with practiced willpower. _She must be a Hufflepuff_ , he thought instead. "Thomas does not have the same motivations as…previous evils," he stated, carefully skipping over the part where _he_ was the previous evil. "For example, a general rule most have is that Slytherin students, due to their fierce ambition, lead the least virtuous of lives in their hunger for power. However, Thomas was sorted into Gryffindor house when he attended Hogwarts. He always had a vision for the courageous and daring, but for him, it often led to violence."

"So he just wants destruction," Hermione concluded, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Harry and Tom nodded simultaneously.

"He gets off on it," Harry said plainly. "Torturing is fun for him, so I imagine burning the Wizarding World to the ground would be like a game."

"But if he's already had that planned, why take the boy?" Mrs. Weasley piped in.

All the adults turned to look at Gemini, who was barely tall enough while standing to be seen above the heads of those who were sitting. Seeing the eyes of the whole room on him, his still rather weak body just paled.

"Oh, sweetie," Mrs. Weasley went over and placed a hand on his forehead. "You look exhausted. Come, let's take you to the others. They'll make sure you can rest." With that, Mrs. Weasley led Gemini out of the room.

"Likely, he wanted to use him to do further damage," Tom answered when she returned. "He would otherwise have no need for him."

"According to the prophecy, whoever the three are will find his weakness before he can burn down everything." Padma looked at Harry. "Even if it isn't you, and you could help discover his weakness, take him out as soon as possible. If this is the same fire that burned London, we should be better fit to combat it now." She paused a moment. "If it's not that kind of fire…we can't guarantee that we'll be able to fight it off. We need him to be gone before he can unleash whatever he has in store."

Harry nodded. "I will do everything in my power to stop him."

Padma smiled somberly. "Thank you, Harry." She glanced about the room. "Alright professors. Time to get back to our posts. We've got to be ready for anything." One by one, the professors disapperated until only Harry, Tom, Hermione, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Neville were left in the room.

"Harry, something's new," Hermione said, scanning over Harry's expression with her motherly brown eyes. "What didn't you tell them?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, this may sound mad, but…" Harry looked at Tom. _How do we break it lightly?_

"He's made himself into my new horcrux so he can perform Parseltongue magic without having to learn the language." Tom grinned upon feeling the annoyance and frustration from Harry's mind.

_Why must you always be an absolute ass_? Harry thought.

"You _what_?" Hermione shouted.

"Hermione," Harry began, but Hermione did not let him finish.

"Why would you do such a terrible piece of _harmful_ magic? All to learn a language? Why do you need to learn the language anyway? It may have no use to you, Harry! And how do you trust him enough to not only allow him to split his soul, but do it _for_ him? No one can be human after splitting their soul! How can we be sure that he hasn't changed?"

"I can see inside his mind," Harry said quietly. As he glanced about the room, they were all staring at him as if he were on trial. They had expressions he recognized. He saw it on people when they thought he killed those aurors, and when they fired him from being head auror. He saw it in his neighbors the very first time he'd yelled at Ginny and stormed out of the house, and they had moved away. He saw it in the faces of strangers who lost loved ones in the war when they blamed him for not turning himself in completely, and he quickly fell from all the newspapers. He saw it in fifth year when he told everyone of Voldemort's return, and in fourth year after he returned from the maze with Cedric's dead body, and in third year after rumors of his encounter with Sirius had spread, and in second year when everyone learned he spoke Parseltongue. World-shattering doubt. Uncertainty. They were never really sure to completely trust the person they believed to be their hero. Maybe they had been let down before.

Tom looked over Harry carefully. He could feel the great shame and remorse flowing from his mind, though his body still looked strong, ready to take-on-the world. He supposed that Harry was as good an actor as Tom was. He wondered just how long he'd practiced such a thing.

"Thomas may not be the strongest wizard Harry has ever fought," Tom stared right into all their eyes, fury beginning to simmer behind his words, "but he is the most relentless, violent, and unpredictable. He will not rest until he has total destruction. He not only enjoys killing, but torturing." His eyes flicked to Hermione. "Need I remind you? He is dangerous beyond belief. There are no limits to what he will do. Would you feel comfortable facing him without every possible advantage?"

No one in the room said anything. Tom stood, walking past the others at the table. "Well, this conversation may have been riveting, but Harry and I must leave. We will take the boy to ensure he rests and is not taken again." After he passed Hermione, he turned back to say, "I trust that this information will remain secret to anyone not currently in this room. Too many being informed could lead to Thomas's discovery."

For a moment, Harry was alone with them as Tom went to fetch Gemini. Hermione gave him a pleading glance, but Harry did not see it. He focused, instead, on the feelings sent from Tom's mind: anger, resentment; had they happened because of what Harry had felt?

Tom returned to the room, a much more colored Gemini in his arms. _Harry,_ Tom thought, walking past him to the front door, _please let us leave_.

After a moment, Harry stood and went to the door, lost in his thoughts. He supposed they would settle it once they were at Tom's. Harry caught up to Tom, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Gemini, this may not be pleasant, especially after already apparating once today. I hope you haven't eaten too recently." With that, Harry apparated to the library.

When they arrived, Tom and Harry checked over Gemini. His skin, which was often peachy before, seemed slightly jaundiced. His hair was a platinum blond, and though his eyes were mostly closed, it was not difficult to conclude they were not a healthy color.

"He seems to be slightly duller," Tom commented.

"How do you feel, Gemini?" Harry asked.

"Like I'll be sick," he answered quietly.

Harry nodded, already performing some simple healing spells on him. "Side-along apparition is never quite enjoyable. I remember my first time. I _did_ get sick. You've done well, I'd say. Twice within the hour. I'm impressed." Harry smiled as he saw the color return to him a bit. "How do you feel now?"

Gemini's eyes popped open revealing one blue and one brown eye. "A bit better, thank you."

Tom developed a small smile on his face. The child was rather odd, but somehow, also quite charming. "Would you like to stand?"

Gemini turned his head, taking in the beauty of the room he saw. "Wow…Yes, I think I'd like to look around, if that's alright."

Tom carefully kneeled and half-poured, half-released Gemini from his arms. Gemini jogged over to the bookshelves, looking down the aisles with wide, excited eyes.

"Where are we?" he asked, amazed.

"This is Tom's library," Harry answered. "You can explore, but be careful. You aren't completely better yet. Take your time."

Gemini nodded as his eyes turned purple. H quickly disappeared down an aisle.

_He is one of a kind_ , Harry thought as a reply to Tom's thoughts on the boy. _Quite like you, actually. Save for the fact that he was sorted into Ravenclaw_.

_That may have saved him_ , Tom thought in reply. _Slytherin can be such a suffocating place at times._

Harry looked to Tom. Instead of thinking at his mind, Harry simply left a feeling fill him up: he wanted to know why Tom had been so angry just a moment ago.

Tom sighed aloud. _You know of my history. Every day of my life was just what you felt then: doubt, uncertainty. They wondered always if I was a devil, and treated me as such. I had some sort of power, but clearly I could not control it completely. I was a monster_.

Harry could sense the pain and remorse that Tom was attempting to hide. He could feel the battle inside him; he wanted to be two different people: who he was now and who he was before. Harry had been in that position before. He understood how it felt to be unsure of one's identity. He shared those feelings with him.

Tom met his gaze and they just looked at one another a moment, emotions, memories, and ideas flowing between their minds. They understood one another. They would get through it all. They could help each other.

After a moment, Tom felt something rise within him, causing an odd warmth in his stomach. Were they friends?

_That may not be the exact word_ , Harry thought, _since friends don't have this connection we have, but it's a start._

Tom had never had a friend before. At least, not a human friend. One who cared about his wellbeing. He'd always had followers.

_To be honest, I'm not much of a follower_ , Harry thought with a grin, _but I'm sure you knew that_.

Tom chuckled. _Yes, I always found it rather annoying_.

Harry watched, pride running through him that he had accomplished his goal to make Tom smile. More, actually: he'd made him laugh.

_It's harder than I thought_ , he shared.

_Well, I am not typically one who allows happiness_ , Tom replied.

_Doesn't it feel good, though?_ Harry looked wholly at him. _Even in its rarest of times, it brings hope._

_I have had little reason to be happy_. Tom looked at the ground a moment. _Until now_.

They both watched as Gemini emerged from the aisle, a stack of books in his arms. Harry took out his wand and cast a spell at the stack, letting it float behind Gemini while he walked to the chairs to read. Gemini smiled so serenely when he cracked open the first book.

_Oh, it feels like Christmas_ , Harry thought.

Tom absorbed the feelings. He'd never had a happy Christmas before. It had been a while since he had even had Christmas at all.

Tom pressed inside Harry's mind, and Harry let him in. At once, memories of Hogwarts Christmases flashed by, especially his very first one: a knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley, his father's invisibility cloak, and the company of friends. It was the type of magic that Hogwarts did not teach but inspired nonetheless.

Though Tom tried to hide it, he enjoyed the feelings of warmth, family, and joy. They were everything he had ever wanted as a child. Maybe he had never stopped wanting them.

_Maybe_ , Harry thought, _we can have Christmas together this year. You don't have to give any gifts, if you don't want, but if anything, watching the children open their presents is the most fun._ Memories of their smiling faces flowed through their minds. Harry chuckled to himself. _There will likely be two more smiling faces at the Burrow this year_. Hannah and Hermione were due around Christmas. His circle of friends was ever expanding. _I'm sure we can squeeze you in somewhere. I think you'll like it._

Tom was truly touched, but a part of him wished he was not. He wanted to decline, to crawl back into the shell of who he was. It had protected him all these years. Now he was vulnerable.

Harry shook his head. _It's not vulnerability. It's trust. It's hope and happiness and love. It's friendship. I know they seem frightening, but I promise that they're worth everything._

Tom turned his attention to Gemini. _He is so incredibly innocent. How has anything innocent survived through a childhood like my own?_

"Why don't you ask him?" Harry said with a smirk on his face.

Tom watched as Gemini flipped through the pages of the book. He feared something he had not in a long time: rejection. He looked back to Harry, but found that he was gone. Tom pressed on their link in surprise, wondering where he had gone. Harry merely returned with a strong, overpowering feeling: confidence.

Using Harry's confidence, Tom walked over to Gemini, sitting down in a chair beside him.

Gemini looked up from the book happily. "Tom, your library is wonderful. I really like this book on metemorphagi."

Tom thought for a moment about faking an expression. If he did, he'd give a charming smile and say something like "But of course. Only the best for me and my guests," but Tom didn't really feel like that was appropriate. If Gemini was really similar to him, he deserved people who were genuine to him, people who didn't say one thing and think another.

"It was always my favorite room in the house," he said instead. "If you look at the rest of the house, you will find that it is rather plain. If I am honest, I never left my library in my old life. I was always here for something."

Gemini looked puzzled a moment. "In your old life?"

Tom nodded. "I once was someone very different from who I am now. And before that, I was different, as well. Oddly enough, I have lived many lives and none of them were satisfying. This one seems more promising." Tom smiled.

Slowly, Gemini closed his book. "Who have you been?"

Tom's smiled faded. "Well, I know you have heard much of this story." Tom could still feel Harry's confidence inside him. He found it comforting, as he'd never had much of his own before. He'd often mistaken it for power. Tom took a breath. "I once was a boy named Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Gemini's eyes suddenly turned neon yellow.

"No need to be alarmed," Tom said. "I cannot even perform magic anymore. I have put that life behind me." He watched as Gemini's eyes softened to a calmer, soft purple. He trusted him, he supposed. Otherwise, he would have never let down his guard. What had Tom done to deserve this child's trust?

"But how did you come back to life? I thought Mr. Potter defeated you." Gemini's lavender eyes turned a rich brown, with a depth like an owl's. Tom was as intrigued with this ability as Gemini seemed to be about Tom's past.

"I began this mess we are in," he replied. "I told one of my followers, your father, to wait for the opportune moment after I died to bring me back. And he did. We had a basic plan: he'd paint me into a portrait, find a way to make me human again, and then we could take over the world." Tom sighed. Did he really want that at some point of his life? What would he have done with all that power? "The plan did not work, however. When he managed to turn me human, I became nothing more than a muggle. Thomas continued on without me. He was going to kill me, actually, but Harry Potter, someone who I thought was my worst enemy, saved me."

Gemini looked down to his hands. Tom wondered what he thought of him. Maybe he blamed him for everything. Or maybe he still thought he was secretly evil. Or both. He supposed both would be warranted.

"Mr. Potter told me I was a lot like you," Gemini said at last. He looked up hesitantly. "Does that mean I'll turn evil someday?"

"Not unless you think that is what you desire," Tom answered. "When I was Voldemort, I thought I wanted power. I wanted the power to do what I wanted. I wanted to invoke fear in others who mistreated me. I wanted revenge in the cruelest manner. I thought that for so long that some days, I still think that life is what I want." Tom sighed. He fell silent a moment. Being honest was a change.

After a long enough pause, Tom refocused. "Tell me, how has your life at the orphanage been?"

Tom watched as this boy's wise brown eyes suddenly changed into a fiery red. "I hate it," he said.

Tom nodded. "I understand. Having magic amongst muggles is a terrible thing, sometimes."

"They call me the devil behind my back," Gemini grumbled. "They tell adopters that I ate my twin in the womb. And they make me sleep on the bathroom floor sometimes, just because they don't like me. The ladies there are horribly superstitious. And religious. Catholic."

"Well, I can honestly say I have never dealt with Catholics before," Tom commented.

Gemini made a pouting face. "They made us pray all the time, and we have to dress up for church every Sunday, but they never clean our clothes. And once, Jimmy hid spaghetti in a bag from dinner the night before and shoved it down my shirt into my pants. Every time I put them on, I smell like spaghetti."

"What do they do to punish you?" Tom laid back in his seat, staring at the ceiling, just listening to Gemini rant. He understood every little bit of it.

"They usually take away dessert, but they never give me dessert to begin with, so they just give me less dinner, or make me clean all the dishes by myself." Gemini took a shaky breath. "In the winter, they take some of my blankets because some of the other kids get cold. They told me that I should enjoy the cold because I'll be spending the rest of eternity burning in Hell."

"They simply do not understand," Tom said. "If they would bother trying to understand your life, maybe they would not be so terrible towards you." He sighed. "But from what you have told me, I doubt they will ever treat you the way you deserve."

Tom glanced at Gemini. His fiery eyes had turned to a watery blue, light and semi-clear in some parts and dark navy in others. He stared at the table, but his mind was clearly far from the room he sat in. "They never let any of the other children talk to me. They tell them that I'll tempt them to sin, and that they'll be damned, too." A tear leaked from his left eye. "They never let me have any friends."

What did he say to this child? Yes, he knew how he felt. But it never got better for Tom. What would Tom have wanted to hear when he was a child? He wasn't sure. He had one friend in Nagini. Maybe all Gemini needed was a pet? He wasn't sure that was a fair trade-off. "You are away from them now. Do you have friends at school?"

Gemini's eyes lightened to a pastel blue. "Yeah. I do," he said as he wiped at his eyes a bit. "Mr. Potter's children."

"I have never properly met them. What are they like?" Tom was genuinely curious.

A small smile grew on his face as he thought about them. "Well, they like me. They think my eyes are brilliant, not weird. They've been watching out for me, making sure I'm alright. Lily told me that they would be my family."

"Take that opportunity," Tom told him. "The Potter family is vast and forgiving. Harry saved me, and I was a villain who tricked him into keeping me as a portrait for a whole summer until I could become human again. Did you know that Harry Potter saved his ex-wife, too? " Tom seemed to be more saying things now for Harry's benefit. He knew Harry was doubtful of himself in such a time, but he honestly didn't need to be. He was a better person than Tom would ever be. "I imagine his children are the same kind, forgiving."

Gemini's sadness seemed to have mostly passed. "I hope so. I quite enjoy their friendship."

"I have no doubt that they will remain to be _your_ friends for as long as you remain to be _their_ friend," Tom replied.

"But how do I know if I've done that?" Gemini asked. "How do I know I won't accidently stop being their friend?"

"Well," Tom began, "friendship is an odd sort of thing. For most of my childhood, I had a snake as a friend. Her name was Nagini. We differed from one another, but when we talked, we were genuinely interested. Snake culture is vastly different from our own. We remained friends because we shared things about ourselves that we did not want anyone else to know. We were both abandoned by our parents. Nagini was the runt, so they left her in the forest. My mother died while birthing me and my father simply left. Our hardships brought us together."

Gemini nodded (he nearly forgot that Voldemort could speak to snakes). His own friends had done what Tom had spoken about. Lily had shared with him how they had felt when their parents divorced. Albus had shared that he was gay. And Gemini had told them all about the bullying, and his father, and how he felt about having them as a family. Actually, he really hoped that they didn't take that to offense. He'd said that he liked it, but maybe he wasn't made to have a family. That wasn't offensive, right?

Gemini was thankful Tom was helping him with this. He'd be entirely lost. He was glad Tom seemed to understand him. He rather liked Tom Riddle.

"Tom," Gemini said suddenly, breaking the silence he wasn't aware had formed.

"Yes, Gemini?" Tom noted the boy's light brown eyes—like sand on the beach, or vanilla mixed with brown sugar—change to the brightest green Tom had ever seen.

"I really enjoy it here. And at Hogwarts, what little time I was there." He took in a breath, looking about the room, anywhere but at Tom. "Do I really have to go back?"

_So quick to take a liking_ , he thought. But he understood why. Memories came flooding back to Tom's mind. Tom asking professor Dumbledore in his first year if he had to go back to the orphanage. He volunteered to work for the school over the summer to be able to live there. But he had refused him. It had been a terrible feeling, having to return to that place. But he returned, nonetheless, until he was seventeen. Then he didn't bother. He could do magic on his own. He didn't need Hogwarts or the orphanage.

But if he had someone to take him in, would he have gone with them? Surely any place would have been better than the orphanage. Maybe Gemini was just looking for a way out, like Tom had. Could Tom really say no to such a request?

"I am sure I have some strings I could pull." Tom sat forward in his chair, back straight, and fully proper. "Never again will you return to that pile of rubbish if I have anything to say about it."

Gemini smiled, eyes now a bright purple. "You really mean it?"

"Of course," Tom said. "If anyone knows how terrible those summers are, I do. I will not allow that to even begin. I am certain Harry will not, either."

In an instant, Gemini had risen and thrown his arms around Tom. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Tom had never been hugged before. As he carefully placed his arms around Gemini, he thought it was such an odd thing. Placing arms around one another to show thanks? He supposed maybe closeness was more accurate. He was very physically close to Gemini. Did that mean he was metaphorically close, as well? He supposed there may be a slight correlation.

When Gemini released him, Tom spoke. "That was an excellent chat. We really should do it again sometime. However…" he smiled. It felt real on his lips. Maybe he liked smiling. "I have to speak with Harry Potter about living quarters for the summer."

Gemini sat back down, flipping through the book he'd previously closed, and continuing to read with an excited expression.

Tom rose, continuing to walk until he was out of the room. Then, he pushed on the link once more, requiring Harry's presence at once.

From the inside of his mind, he heard a loud chuckle. It was honestly louder than usual. He looked down the hallway. Had he really heard it?

Harry chuckled again, releasing the disillusionment charm. "Did I do well to hide the charm I performed?"

Tom was hardly amused (though maybe he was a bit amused). "I suppose you may have. Such an accomplishment," he stated, "hiding your mind from a muggle who can no longer perform mind magic."

Harry smiled. It was bright and happy. Just seeing it made Tom want to smile, too.

"So, are you going to keep Gemini, then?" Harry asked. "Are the 'strings you are going to pull' actually adoption papers?"

"I am considering it," Tom answered, "but I have no knowledge on how to raise a child."

"Well, at Gemini's age, it's not difficult." Harry shrugged. "Mostly, they tell you if they need something. The worst thing you may have to deal with is leaving the house. Groceries, toiletries. Also, children like to play outside. Do you have a door on this house that leads there?"

"Not one that is normal," Tom answered.

Harry made a face. "Just that one we went through the first time Draco and I came here?"

Tom nodded.

"Absolutely not." Harry shook his head. "You'll need a portkey, then."

Tom nodded again, an unsure feeling rising within him.

Harry's furrowed brows slackened. "Hey, it's going to be alright," Harry placed his hand on his shoulder. "You're not becoming a parent just yet. You have time. Just relax."

Tom found the small touch comforting. He supposed that he may be an alright caretaker, as long as Harry could check on them every so often.

"Of course," Harry said.

Tom suddenly felt pride coming from Harry's mind. Harry was proud of Tom? He hadn't even done anything yet worthy of it. A part of himself was starting to feel sick. Maybe all this was too much of a change.

"Hey," Harry began, putting his arms around Tom, "it'll be alright. I promise. It just takes some getting used to."

Tom's heart began to beat quite quickly. He was being hugged again, but this time by Harry Potter. How was he being so human? He had half a soul. Nothing was making sense anymore.

But Harry didn't let go. Maybe it was because he hadn't hugged back? Tom gently placed his arms around Harry, unsure of what was expected from him in a hug. Surely he shouldn't squeeze, but how loose was too loose? Why was he being hugged, anyhow? They weren't quite friends, Harry had explained, they were a bit more. What did that even mean? They're connection made them closer, but what word correlated with the amount of closeness they had? And did that entail such a long hug?

Harry chuckled, sending a vibration through Tom's chest. "It's just a hug, Tom. No need to overthink it." A few seconds later, Harry released him, and Tom let his arms fall to his side.

"Have you decided if you like hugs yet?" Harry gave a small smile.

Surely Tom didn't like them. They forced him to be entirely too close to others. But maybe he didn't mind being close to Gemini, and maybe he didn't mind being close to Harry. Those were relationships he enjoyed, even if he may not yet completely understand them.

"What's left to understand?" Harry asked.

_Much_ , Tom thought.

With that, Harry let it be. "We ought to get to planning. We've got a deadline." Harry turned with a smile, heading to the library.

_Yes, weaknesses to discover_ , Tom thought, attempting to create a distraction for Harry as he buried a feeling he did not yet understand, but did not want Harry to see: a feeling that made his stomach tingle, his heart beat faster, and his mind unreasonably happy.

 


	30. The Father and the Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains some graphic violence some readers may find disturbing.

Tom rose in the morning, the smell of breakfast down the hallway like heaven to his nostrils. He could hardly remember the last time he had eaten breakfast. Gemini, in the transfigured bed beside his, rubbed at his eyes, also being roused by the lovely smell.

Tom smiled. "I suppose Harry has cooked breakfast this morning."

Gemini sat up, a large, calm smile on his lips. "Smells wonderful."

Tom and Gemini slowly rose from their beds, sleep reluctant to release them, and made their way down the hall to the kitchen.

When they arrived, Harry was just finishing the eggs, a heap of bacon already on plates that Tom did not own. Glasses of apple juice were on the table, along with silverware and napkins, also that Tom did not own.

_You went shopping?_ Tom thought. Their connection seemed to have shrunk slightly overnight, like a healing wound.

_I borrowed some from the Grimmauld Place. No one there is using it anyway._ Harry put the last bit of eggs on a plate and the plates made their way to the table, floating above their heads, then gently lowering onto the table.

"I hope you both like bacon and eggs. If you'd like more, I've got bread for toast, as well." Harry made his way to the table, and all three sat around it.

The room went quiet as they began to eat, finding the food flavorful and filling. The plain room felt brighter, and its occupants more at home.

* * *

 

When Thomas awoke in the morning, he didn't move for hours. He couldn't say how long he had stayed up just staring at the empty spot on the bed beside him. Now, he wanted anything but to be forced to look at the spot, hoping that maybe it was all just a dream. Maybe, his Amayra would turn and put her arms around him and they would fall back into the loving relationship they had long ago. Amayra hadn't shown him that sort of affection in so long. It was as if she were an entirely different person, now.

He blamed himself every moment for allowing them to take her. She enjoyed their time down in the room, but before he could even smile at her and tell her how much he cared for her, she was gone. He could only imagine how they were treating her. Likely, she was a prisoner, being kept to distract him from the next big step in his plan. But he wouldn't let them take him down that easily. He would fight on until he had brought the world to its knees. He would scoop Amayra from her prison and then they would watch together as the world they once lived in was destroyed, and then they could dance among the ashes and start their life anew. Maybe, if Amayra wanted, they could have another child. She would be so much happier, then. He would try not to get jealous this time. He would give anything to see her happy.

He turned his head to the left, seeing the large gap between him and the other side of the bed. His heart ached inside his chest. He would get back his love. And then the world would fall back into order.

* * *

 

Once they finished breakfast, Harry charmed the plates to wash themselves in the sink, and they made their way to the library. They had deemed today training day. Harry wanted all three of them to be prepared for whatever fight lay ahead of them. They would start with Gemini, seeing if he could gain some control over his powers, even in the slightest. Then, they would try to give Tom some protection and simple weapons. Finally, Harry wanted to practice Parselmagic with Tom, just to ensure they could perform a spell together quickly and effectively, even after their connection began to close up a bit.

Gemini had not had much schooling up to date, but seemed excited and ready once they arrived to the library.

"What do I get to learn to do?" he asked, his eyes a violent shade of purple.

Harry chuckled. "Well, I think we should start with a simple protection spell. Then, a couple of good offensive spells, then we'll work on your special power, alright?"

Gemini nodded, pulling out his wand.

Tom stepped closer to him, looking over his wand. "Ivy wood," he said, "approximately 9 inches." He held out his hand. "May I?"

Gemini carefully placed the wand in his hand.

Slowly, Tom attempted to bend it. "Slightly springy." Tom handed it back. "What core?"

"Unicorn hair," Gemini answered.

Tom smiled. "Consistent magic, strongly bonded to its first user. Excellent for protection spells. High success rate for all attempted magic."

Gemini smiled back. "You know about wands?"

"Of course," Tom replied. "Wandlore is highly critical for any magical person to know, especially when they may or may not be using their own wand." Tom looked to Harry, not bothering to look at his wand, but in his mind. "Holly and phoenix feather. 12 inches. Nice and supple." Tom pondered over it a moment. "Incredibly pure magic. Highly powerful. Of course, easily repels evil."

Harry smiled. "Are you done showing off?"

"I suppose," Tom said, though he continued in their connected minds, _but I plan to show off again as much as I possibly am able._

Harry rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself. "Alright, first protection spell, then. Gemini, wand at the ready!"

* * *

 

Thomas stood in the corner of the torture room, waiting for his men to bring him another person for his potion. It had been weeks since he had taken one. He was starting to feel his age catch up with him. He'd looked into the mirror this morning and seen the amount of grey hair that had begun to spring just at the nape of his neck. He didn't bother to dye it this time. Why would he? He had no one to look good for.

He heard a crack in the room upstairs and the muffled struggling of someone. Immediately, his men released the man.

"Go down the stairs," one of them said, "or we'll make you."

"Please," the man replied, "I have a family to return to. I promise, I'll never walk that part of the woods ever again. My daughter's birthday is tomorrow. I was just looking for-"

One of his men took a swing at the man, hurting him before Thomas even had a chance to see him. _How utterly rude_ , he thought to himself. _They aren't supposed to hurt him. That's my job_.

Thomas traveled up the stairs, listening to the whimpering man. When he got to the top of the stairs, he man was on the floor with a bloody nose. Thomas sighed.

"What have you lot done to this poor man? I told you not to hurt him." He kneeled down to face the man, faux concern on his face. The man looked healthy enough, if not a bit pudgy. He hardly seemed to clean his face, but that wouldn't harm the potion too terribly. Maybe a bit of a wash beforehand would do the trick. "I'm terribly sorry, sir. I never meant for this to happen."

"What do you want with me?" The man seemed hardly reassured by Thomas's apology.

"You said you were looking for something. Flowers, I assume." Thomas magically pressed forcibly into the man's mind, revealing where exactly the men had captured him. " _My_ flowers. I am not a strict man, sir, but my poppies are my pride and joy."

"I'm terribly sorry. I'll never do it again, I swear."

Thomas smiled. "I believe you. However, if you would like some of my poppies for a price, maybe we could arrange something?"

The man's fear seemed to drain. "If I pay, will you let me go?"

"Certainly," Thomas lied. "You've already picked the flowers, so I'd like some compensation."

Thomas stood, holding out a hand for the man to grab. The man grabbed it and helped himself up, dotting his free hand under the blood coming from his nose.

"I have some tissues down in my workshop." Thomas pointed to the doorway behind him with his thumb. "Why don't we go grab them and then talk business, yes?"

The man nodded. "Alright."

Thomas turned, holding out a hand to gesture for the man to go first. He would most certainly need a wash. Blood tampered with the potion terribly. He needed a bloodless corpse. He wondered how long it would take to bleed this one dry.

* * *

 

"Alright," Harry said, "once more. Are you ready?"

Gemini nodded as he lifted his wand into the ready position once more.

For a moment, they just stood. Harry had taken to attempting to catch Gemini off his guard. He'd successfully protected himself a couple times, but mostly his reaction time was poor. He'd gotten stung a few times with the stinging jinx Harry was tossing at him. Could he stop it this time?

Harry cast the spell non-verbally in an instant, and Gemini's eyes widened before he remembered to cast his protection charm.

" _ **Proteg**_ -" he managed before getting hit once more.

Right after it, Harry sent a healing spell to reduce the swelling and redness. "Are you alright, Gem?"

After a moment of pain, Gemini nodded. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter."

"No need to apologize Gemini. You're just learning." Harry's mind filed through ways to help improve reaction time. Was he being too tough, since he was doing this all non-verbal?

_Have him cast the spell a few times on his own_ , Tom thought at Harry, standing at a distance between the two of them. _He does not seem quite comfortable with casting it. He needs to be sure it can protect him fully before it can be cast quickly._

Harry nodded. "Cast the spell a few more times, then we'll test it again."

Gemini nodded. He took in a breath and let it out. " _ **Protego**_ **!** " A small, silvery shield protruded from his wand.

"Good. Again." Harry watched, seeing that the spell had gotten smaller. Tom was right. His confidence in the spell was shrinking.

" _ **Protego**_!" Gemini cast. The shield came out again, not any smaller or larger than the one before it.

Without warning, Harry tossed a non-verbal water spell at him. The water splashed onto the shield and onto Gemini's pants, which were not covered by the shield.

"Hey," Gemini exclaimed. He dropped the shield. The remaining water fell onto the ground just before his feet.

"You're not confident enough in your casting, Gemini. The shield is only covering half of you." Harry gave a half smile. "Your shield _is_ protecting you. Just give it a bit more power."

"Yes, sir." Gemini prepared once more, this time, his purple eyes went brown. " _ **Protego**_!"

Harry smiled as the shield now extended a bit farther, covering all of Gemini but his feet. It was progress. "Excellent. Just a bit more."

Gemini released the spell and took in a deep breath. He promised himself that he would get this. _Magic takes confidence_ , he thought to himself. _My wand is perfect for casting this, I just need to give it enough energy to let it._

He took in a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs completely, then pushed it all out. He was ready. He could do this. It was all about how much he gave to the spell.

" _ **Protego**_!"

The shield now extended above his head and to the ground, covering all of Gemini within its protection.

" _ **Aguamenti**_ ," Harry cast. The water hit the shield and fell right off. He cast the stinging jinx again, finding it could not penetrate the shield, either. He smiled. "Yes, perfect. _That_ is the size it should be."

Gemini smiled.

"Now, let's see how quickly you can conjure it." Harry stood at the ready, waiting for the opportune moment to cast.

Gemini readied himself too. They just stood, watching one another, almost as still as statues. Minutes ticked away. Just when Gemini was wondering if Harry would ever cast again, Harry sent a jelly-legs jinx to Gemini.

" _ **Protego**_ ," Gemini cast in an instant. The shield surrounded him completely in a silvery glow, repelling the spell.

"Excellent work." Harry smiled. "Let's take a quick break. We'll resume in a few minutes."

"Good," Gemini said, "because after those water spells, I've got to use the loo."

Harry chuckled as Gemini jogged from the room. He smiled and looked at Tom. He could no longer completely tell what he was thinking, but the most apparent things still flowed through the connection. Tom was impressed with Gemini's performance. He also seemed to be thinking highly of their combined ability to teach.

"I'm glad you recognize it as a dual effort," Harry said with a smile. Harry had felt so empty deep inside himself for so long, but here with these two, he felt a wholeness he had been longing for since that fateful day he lost his job. He was where he belonged. Was that a wrong feeling to have? He had a family somewhere. Three beautiful children and an ex-wife. An ex-brother-in-law who was his best friend, said friend's wife who was also his best friend, and his niece and nephew. Many other extensions of his family that went on for miles. And here he was, the happiest he may have ever been with his ex-enemy and a student he'd known for a week and a half.

"Of course," Tom replied, a pleasant smile on his face. Harry could sense something was different in him. Maybe it was his time with Gemini. He really was glad that they were getting along. He thought they needed each other to grow into the people they both deserved to be.

Tom continued to stare at Harry, that rather charming smile on his face. For a moment, Harry felt nothing coming through the connection. He wondered what had happened to it. Was it closing too fast? With curiosity, he nudged on Tom's mind, finding it exactly how it had been before, just empty of thought.

_Are you alright_? Harry's brows drew closer together. Tom was acting strange.

_I am perfectly fine,_ Tom answered.

_Then where are your thoughts? They've all gone._ Harry attempted to press into the other man's mind, finding his entrance blocked.

Both of the men said nothing. Confused and slightly hurt, Harry retracted into his own mind. _I'm sorry. Was I intruding on something?_

The smile on Tom's face faded. He did not reply, or share any of his thoughts. Harry was left with nothing.

Gemini returned to the room, then, eyes purple, but quickly faded into brown. His wand was already in his hand.

Without warning, Harry tossed a couple jinxes at him.

" _ **Protego!**_ " Gemini quickly cast, brown eyes flashing yellow. Upon realizing he'd successfully shielded himself from both jinxes, his eyes returned to their purple color and he smiled.

"You've gotten very good," Harry stated, looking at Gemini but thinking of what Tom was hiding. "I think we're ready to move on."

* * *

 

Thomas inhaled the fragrance of blood in the air: metallic, sharp, and oh-so arousing. He loved it. Many times, he'd bathed in it, much like his ancestor Elizabeth Báthory, of royal Hungarian decent. She was the only one on the Hungarian side of the family tree he liked to recognize. Mostly, he kept to his French half, where he could trace all the way back to King Louis XIII, who made France a great and powerful nation. Unfortunately, he was directly descended from his second son, Philippe, and not the next ruler of the throne, Louis XIV. That was alright, though. Louis XIV, the so called "Sun King" was a disgrace to the French throne.

He'd collected just a bowl of the man's blood, and the rest he watched as it circled the drain. That was the thing about blood: it was so endlessly entertaining. Its thickness made it so much slower to drain than water, but still quick enough that it never seemed boring. He'd almost wanted to keep it all, but his Amayra was not here to bathe with him. Alas, he settled for a bowl's worth.

He stuck a finger into the blood, pulling it out a moment just to admire the rich scarlet color in contrast to his pale skin. When he was satisfied, he placed his whole hand into the bowl, scooping up the blood and watching it drip until most of the excess was gone. He smeared the blood on his face, feeling the thickness of it coat his cheeks, dripping down to his chin and bare chest. He poured the rest of the bowl onto his chest and placed the bowl down. Using both hands, he rubbed his blood covered skin.

Soon, the blood had dripped all the way to his hips, getting blood on the edge of his pants. He smiled as the blood expanded into the fabric, wetting the pockets, the zipper, the crotch, and onto his legs. A bulge formed within his pants as the warmth of the blood coated his body. Covered in blood, he felt powerful, sexy, and unstoppable. He thrived on the feeling.

He grabbed the potion he'd just finished making and downed it like a shot, feeling the ecstasy of youth fill his body, too. He so enjoyed being filled and covered in this way. Slowly, a rouge hand made its way to his crotch, massaging the blood-stained mess.

Oh, how he missed his Amayra. He'd have made her do this part. She used to love it.

At once, the bulge in his pants dissipated. Though covered in blood and feeling youth in his veins, he was no longer aroused. He wanted Amayra. He wanted her in his arms, cuddling in the warmth of the blood that covered their naked bodies. He wanted to lick it all off her drop by drop. He wanted her to choke him until he passed out. He wanted to rip tiny cuts into her body and listen to her scream in euphoria as he poured alcohol all over her. God, he missed her screams.

Most of all, he missed the life they shared.

Thomas fell to his knees, sobbing. Who was he without his Amayra? He could not enjoy the pleasures of life. His heart hurt. The blood on his skin began to dry and crack, turning from a scarlet red to a dull brick color. He was no longer unstoppable. He was no longer sexy, or powerful. He was helpless. Helpless and frustrated.

Fire raged within his heart. He would get her back if it meant killing every single person on Earth.

* * *

 

"Gemini," Harry said with a large smile on your face, "I want you to know how proud I am of you. You have learned so much in one day. And you've taken this challenge we've thrusted upon you like a champion. As someone who knows what that's like, I must say you've handled it well."

Gemini gave a smile, but found he yawned afterwards.

Harry chuckled. "You've worked hard. Go rest for a while. We'll be having a late lunch, so I'll let you know when it's ready."

He nodded. "Okay, Mr. Potter. Thank you for the lessons." Gemini made his way out of the room slowly, careful not to let his sleepiness cause him to run into anything.

Harry watched, not being able to suppress his happiness. He was so thoroughly impressed with Gemini's performance. In the time it had taken him to learn the protection spell, he'd learned _three_ offensive spells: the disarming charm, the confundus charm, and the body-bind curse. Two charms and a curse! Harry was sure that, at Gemini's age, he could hardly make a feather float in the air, let alone attack or protect himself.

_Yes, he is quite advanced_ , Tom thought. The thought was so abrupt in Harry's mind that he jumped. The last couple hours, he had heard nothing from the other man's mind at all.

_I apologize_ , Tom thought, walking closer to Harry, but keeping his distance. _I did not mean to startle you_. _I realize our connection was fairly quiet for a while_.

" _Fairly?_ " Harry scoffed. "I asked you a question you never answered. I'd say that's more than _fairly_ quiet." Harry caught himself. Maybe he cared too much. He needed to take a step back for a moment.

"I'm sorry." Harry sighed. "Maybe I was intruding. I didn't mean to. I understand that this whole connection things between us is rather new. We seemed to work together so well yesterday, but our minds aren't that open to one another anymore. I just haven't caught up with the change."

Tom simply watched him. Harry could feel his eyes on him, piercing him, causing the tiny hairs on the back of his neck to rise, but he looked instead to the floor. He was growing nervous. What was up with Tom? What was going on in his head? He desperately missed their closeness. It was a type of being he'd never felt before. Now, he felt oddly abandoned.

Harry quickly buried his feelings. "Should we begin practicing the Parselmagic, then?"

"Of course," Tom replied. "There are a few basic spells that prove to be highly powerful. I think the stopping spell you performed after repeating my words worked well. However, I do believe we can do better."

"What do you have in mind, then?" Harry finally met his gaze. It was more delicate than he had imagined it would be. Tom had not been so much staring at Harry as much as he was just simply gazing at him.

Tom glanced away, taking in the room. "First, we will need something to test on."

Harry's brows drew together. "Like what? A person?"

"Boreas!"

In seconds, a large gust of wind pushed into the room, swirling Harry's hair on his head and causing his shirt to flap.

"Can you find us a fairly large snake?" Tom smiled. "From the wild, please. Preferably basilisk, but if they are truly extinct, any python or anaconda will do."

"A giant snake?" Harry's face shifted from confusion to uncertainty.

As the winds blew out of the room once again, Tom fixed the small strands that had loosened from his perfect brown hair. "Well, if any animal will understand Parseltongue, a snake will." Tom gave a cheeky smirk. "Plus it is always endlessly enjoyable to see you out of your comfort zone."

Harry opened his mouth in mock offense. "You _want_ to make me uncomfortable?" He found himself falling into a short laugh afterwards. Did Tom really enjoy seeing that? And when had Tom seen him out of his comfort zone?

Tom chuckled to himself, not bothering to say if he was joking or not. Harry assumed he was, but that would mean Tom was comfortable enough with Harry to joke. Was he? Harry surely hoped so.

After a moment, the winds returned, gently dropping a coil of scales taller than Harry and Tom combined. The winds quickly left, leaving the two alone with the snake.

Harry had only seen a bigger snake in the Chamber of Secrets, but surely this snake must have been the basilisk's cousin. Its oak colored body seemed to be as thick as Harry's was, if not more so. He couldn't make out where its body ended and where a head or tail may begin until the snake began to move.

From the top of the coils, a head appeared, its nose rounded and textured, as if the snake were incredibly old. It hardly had an exact point where its head ended and where its body began; there was a slight protrusion on each side of its head that was expected of snake heads, but not nearly as exaggerated as Harry would have expected. Slowly, the snake uncoiled itself, hissing constantly at the room around it.

" _Sssssseessssso,_ " Tom hissed at the snake. He continued to make such noises, but Harry did not understand a word. He wondered when Tom would share the translation with him, as he seemed to be keeping it all to himself.

After a moment, the snake hissed something back. It was then that Tom let Harry understand.

" _I greatly appreciate your welcome,_ " the snake hissed. " _I am Basileus, king of the waters._ "

Harry wondered if he should bow or something. Was that how snakes worked? He'd only ever spoken to one.

Tom did not bow, but rather seemed to stand taller and push back his shoulders. " _This is Harry Potter. Forgive him, he is still learning the ways of the serpent_."

Harry, unsure, did a small head bow, to which Tom sighed.

" _He is unfortunately only aware of how to greet a creature that is entirely too proud of its own stature._ " Tom held out his arms before him. " _I hope you may take pity on him. He needs training to perfect this language and use it to perform magic._ "

Basileus seemed to ponder the idea. Harry wondered if we really were thinking, or if Harry himself was just making it up. Either was just as likely as the other, he supposed.

" _I have mastered this language long before he hatched,_ " Basileus replied. " _I expect he will demonstrate his magic to me._ "

Tom lowered his arms. " _Of course._ "

Tom looked to Harry with a smirk. Harry shifted on his feet nervously. He didn't know about the snake, but he was sure Tom wouldn't let anything happen to him.

Basileus reared his head back. " _Then let us begin_."

* * *

 

Thomas traveled behind twenty men and in front of twenty men. He hated his stupid plan. Why did he have to think cleverly? Why not just strike right now? They weren't ready, he was sure.

_Sure_ , a part of him thought, _but not positive_. It had been a phrase Amayra had used to say all the time. She had always kept him in line in those days. Now, all she did was try to draw him out of line.

"Sir," said the man leading them. He looked back slightly, a black patch over his eye and American accent in his words.

Thomas looked up with a dazzling smile. "Yes, Thomas the Second?"

The man seemed wholly uncomfortable every time Thomas called him that. "We've arrived."

The whole group stopped at that moment, parting down the middle to make way for whichever direction Thomas wanted to go. Where did he want to go? He supposed he could go up.

Thomas stepped forward, looking the building up and down. He waited a moment, just staring at one of the windows, a fully creepy smile developing on his face like the blooming of a flower.

"Oh Dolores!" He shouted. "I've arrived. Won't you show me in?"

At once, the window he'd been staring at opened. Dolores Umbridge, squatter and (somehow) pinker in her age, jumped upon seeing his expression. "Oh, Thomas! Please put away that expression of yours."

Thomas let his face fade into a simple smirk. "But it's my trademark, Dolores. Much like your trademark is your…" he paused a moment, "perfectly pink attire." How he despised this woman…but she could get the job done.

"I'll be right down," she said, a painted smile on her face.

Thomas looked from the window to his favorite follower. "Thomas the Second, how is your life?" He patted him on the back.

The man sighed inwardly. "Quite fine."

"Quite fine?" Thomas smiled. "How is Jeannine?"

He looked to the ground, his lips drawn together in a thin line. "We broke it off."

"Hmmm…" Thomas looked him over. "She broke it off with you, I take it?"

Though he seemed to want to protest, he said nothing.

"If you like," Thomas got very close to the man, suddenly, whispering in his ear, "I can take care of her for you. I can bring her to her knees and make her beg for you back without touching even a hair on her head." Thomas smiled large. Maybe he felt a rush in his pants from the idea. Or maybe from the closeness.

The man's heart raced and he began to breathe very shallowly. He met Thomas's gaze, fear in his eyes. "No thank you."

"It'll be fun, I promise." Thomas stepped back. "She'll never leave you again."

"Thomas, is it time already?" Dolores asked as she walked out the front doors of the building.

Thomas turned his attention. "Almost. Just one final check and then we can put them all into position."

Dolores had a pleasant expression, though Thomas found it rather appalling. "It has been quite a while since you've come to check upon them. I must warn you that there has been a slight change in staff since your last visit."

"Has there?" Thomas took a step closer to the door, his gaze hiding anger. "And what change has there been?"

Dolores cleared her throat. He scared her. _Good_ , he thought.

"Well, I recently discovered that one of the guards let one of the Ministry workers get away. I had to discharge him for such an act. No one new has been added. His hours were simply covered by workers we already had."

Thomas took another step closer, then another, until he was before Dolores, looking down at her. "Why was I not informed before now? Was the escapee someone important?" Thomas lowered his face to meet hers, the creepy smile growing on his face. "For instance, Harry's wife? The one I saw sitting in their home protecting her children and my son?"

Dolores swallowed hard. "I apologize most sincerely. I ordered him to put her under a much stronger curse, but she must have broken it."

His eyes grew a bit narrower. "And where is the guard now?"

"In the dungeon, awaiting your punishment." Dolores attempted a smile, finding it riddled with nervousness.

Thomas stood tall once more, his smile gone. "Excellent. Please, show me to him."

Dolores nodded in relief. "Yes, of course. This way."

They all walked into the building. The first twenty of his men waited outside by the door while the rest followed them down the hallway.

"Right through this door, Thomas."

Dolores's pleasant expression was back. Thomas opened the door, stepping through and disappearing. Dolores motioned for the other men to follow, but none of them did, instead taking root outside the door. Worriedly, Dolores stepped through, leaving it open as she walked inside. When the men could no longer hear her, they shut the door.

"Ah, Albacin," Thomas said, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I never expected you. Maybe it was the fact that you had a pet. Pets reveal great caretakers."

As Dolores joined him, she watched as he paced before the chained man.

"However," Thomas's hands joined before his face, fingers interlacing. "You've never cared for a bitch before, have you?" He touched the back of his thumbs to his mouth while shaking his head. "They are quite a pain to take care of, especially the gingers." He unclasped his hands, letting them swing by his side. "If I'm honest, I've been rather bored today. I could really use a pick-me-up." He turned to face Dolores.

"What can I get for you, Thomas?" Dolores smiled.

Thomas smiled back. "Get on that wall next to him."

Her smiled faded. "What?"

His smiled only grew. "You heard me clearly. Get on this wall. I am going to chain you to it and relieve myself of some boredom."

Her pink lips fell open into a gaping hole. "But I-I…"

"…need to get on that wall," he finished for her. "I haven't got all day. I still need to check on those Ministry workers, you know." He smoothed down his pressed, clean shirt. Oh, how he couldn't wait to dirty it.

"Thomas, I-" she began to protest, but Thomas had his wand out, in an instant forcing her to the wall. The chains clasped themselves onto her wrists and ankles.

"Much better," Thomas stated. "Now, I want you both to learn a lesson from this. A lesson," he began to pace once more, "about communication. Communication is endlessly important to anything involving two or more people. Now, understanding this rule, name me one thing that involves two or more people."

Neither of them said a word.

Thomas clicked his tongue. "I see we haven't done our homework. Maybe a quick motivator ought to help." He pulled a chopping knife from his enlarged pocket, holding the handle in his hand like it was an old friend. "Now, once more: name one thing, just one, that involves two or more people. Make it a good answer."

"Your regime!" Dolores exclaimed with a nervous smile.

Without warning, Thomas lunged with the knife, chopping off all fingers but her thumb on her right hand. She screamed at once; music to his ears.

"An excellent answer, Dolores," he said over her screams. "If you are so keen to understanding how necessary communication is in my regime, then _why_ was I not informed?"

Tears leaked from her face, causing her mascara to run in black streaks down her face.

"Oh Dolores, haven't you heard of waterproof makeup?" Thomas sighed. She was ruining his fun. "It doesn't come off for anything, not even torture. Ask Mrs. Granger-Weasley. She has much experience with that."

Thomas looked to the ground, seeing her fingers laying there. He picked one up, examining it.

"What a waste of nail polish," he said. "Ah well. It was a rather ugly pink color." He dropped the finger back on the floor and stepped on it.

"Now that we understand that communication is important to the regime, tell me, either of you, what punishment is proper for someone who cannot communicate?" He began to grind the finger into the cement floor with his shoe. "Hm?"

"Death," Albacin whispered.

Thomas looked to him and smiled. "Right you are, Albacin. Really, you've been fired? You deserve a promotion!"

Albacin's eyes widened in surprise. "A promotion?"

"Yes," Thomas replied. With one swift movement, he chopped off his head. "I'm sure you'll find an easy death quite better than an endless cycle of torture." He looked to Dolores. "What'll it be, Dolores?"

Dolores's eyes watered further. "Fire me! Leave me to rot on some abandoned part of the planet."

Thomas shook his head. "I'm afraid you are all of out Get Out of Jail Free cards, Dolores." He flipped the knife in his hands, catching it perfectly at the hilt. "You're going to have to settle."

* * *

 

" _We greatly appreciate all your help,_ " Tom said to Basileus.

Basileus nodded once. " _May I now return to my home_?"

"Boreas!" Tom shouted. "Return Basileus to his home!"

Basileus coiled up once more as the winds entered the room. They scooped up the giant snake and whisked him away in moments.

_That was the oddest thing I have ever done_ , Harry thought to Tom. He'd felt all sorts of uncomfortable the whole time, but Tom had explained to him that was how snake culture worked. He was rather happy at the prospect of never having anything to do with giant snakes ever again.

"But now our magic is synchronized perfectly. Your pronunciation is immaculate. We shall be a powerful pair against Thomas."

Tom smiled, his perfectly straight, white teeth in stark contrast to his pink-tinted lips and cream skin. It made Harry want to smile, too, regardless of the fact that he'd been on edge for the past couple hours.

"Yep," Harry said. "All we need now is his weakness."

Tom scoffed. "Simple. Death. Death is a weakness of everyone."

Harry raised his brows. "Death? Death is what he's lying about? He's telling everyone he's unkillable?"

"No," Tom replied, "but once he is killed, he can no longer finish his plan."

Harry walked over the one of the chairs and plopped himself down. "That's _your_ weakness, Tom." He shook his head. "Plus, how do we know he is even the one casting the spell? Maybe if we kill him, we lose any chance of being able to stop his followers from casting it and destroying…whatever they're planning on destroying."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Maybe he shares your weakness then," he said. "Maybe if we discredit him to all his followers, they will think he is not the great, magnificent person they believe him to be."

Harry gazed over at Tom, slightly hurt. What was he trying to say? "Thomas is a lunatic," he said quietly. "It's hard to disprove something that is entirely true."

Tom walked over to the sitting area, standing a few feet before the chair Harry sat in. There was something strange in his eyes. Harry tried to read it. Anger? Frustration?

"If necessary," Tom began, "we have aurors and professors and other volunteers protecting places of value with orders to attack any of Thomas's followers on sight. We kill Thomas himself, the regime falls to pieces."

What was it with Tom and killing?

"Why do we have to kill him?" Harry stood. "What if the weakness he has cripples him? Or makes him unable to continue with his plan? Wouldn't that be the better alternative? Lock him up in Azkaban and throw away the key."

"I do hope you recall the time when I _broke into_ Azkaban, freeing the prisoners there," Tom spat. There was definitely anger in his eyes now. "Azkaban is not a permanent option for villains who will not cease."

"His weakness, Tom!" Harry shouted, anger growing within his chest, too. Why did Tom want to kill him so bad? He was a dangerous man, but they had faced him before and escaped, barely. They could do it again. Harry was sure. "Why kill him if we don't have to?"

"You know very well what he is capable of!" Tom yelled, taking a step closer. "Your friend! Janet! He _enjoyed_ doing that! He is a monster that needs to be stopped!"

Harry's anger caused him to take another step closer, intent on yelling right into Tom's face. "Yes! I know what he is capable of! I was there! I saw what he did to Ron, too! And the aurors! He needs to be stopped, but why kill him if we can take him down just as thoroughly without it!"

"Are you saying we should _spare_ him after what he's done?"

"No!" Harry drew closer still, his red face inches before Tom's. "I'm not saying I'm against killing him! I just don't want to be _set_ on killing him! We're not the monsters, here Tom!"

Tom said nothing, just looking into Harry's angry eyes.

"Why are you so intent on killing him? He's a human being!" Harry couldn't stop the anger, coming like a volcano. It kept flowing, though he knew this topic wasn't what he was angry about. "A lunatic, but a human being! Not a weapon! Not a machine! Why is the end game to take life?"

Tom stared, his expression hard, concentrating. "There are people to protect."

"Do you think I don't have anyone I want to protect!? The reason I do this is to protect everyone! But even Thomas's life is a human one, Tom! Who's safety is _so important_ that a man deserves to die because of it!?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Tom replied, "Yours."

"What?" Harry said, thrown off guard. "I'm fighting him to save others!" His shouts were only now at half volume. "I have a job to do, but that doesn't mean I have to kill him! What makes _me_ so important that I have to-"

Before Harry even realized what was happening, Tom's lips were on his own, hard and frustrated. And just as quick as it began, it was over.

For a moment, Harry stood still, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

From the other side of their connection, a whirlwind of emotions flowed into Harry's mind. Worry. Frustration. Concern.

Love.

Harry was speechless. What should he say?

At that moment, Gemini came into the room, a much more lively expression on his face.

"Are you two alright?" Gemini said, his eyes bright purple. "I heard some yelling. Is lunch ready yet?"

"Not yet," Harry said at once. "I'll get right on it."

He walked past Tom, heading to the kitchen, surprise still overtaking his mind.


	31. Curtain of Lies

Thomas reached his home, letting go of the surging motivation that had filled his body before. He had been overly cheery, violent, and all-powerful not moments ago, but suddenly became tired, weak, and unhappy. He felt like nothing but a shell.

He could remember the screams of Dolores that he had heard not too long ago now, but they felt like distant memories. The bright pink suit she wore was duller, as he thought about it, as if his memory was fading to black-and-white. He could see the deep cuts he had implanted in it, drawing a dark, unstoppable liquid from beneath her skin. He had decided not to take her life. He would rather watch her bleed to death. And he had. She had marvelous blood, that woman, thick and sickly, like red tar.

The sun sank from the sky, casting harsh shadows against Thomas's face as he removed his soiled clothes and used a damp cloth to wash off the remaining blood on his body. He found that he did not have his usual joy while doing so. He usually liked to wet the blood and watch it run down his body further, as if it were once again fresh. He merely wiped it all off, not caring to amuse himself.

_Just one more day_ , he thought.

He did not bother to replace his shirt, simply throwing on some black robes to head to his meeting. He disapperated, landing in the meeting room of his dark force. Five men stood around him in the dimly lit room, awaiting their leader. For them, he did not bother putting on a show. He needed no curtain to hide his true feelings, for they knew him well enough.

"Thomas the Second," he groaned, "I'm not sure how much longer I can stand this."

The man with the eye patch sighed. His _name_ was _Montgomery_.

"Sir, we've done our best to locate Amayra, but she seems to be untraceable."

Thomas pouted and fell into the chair behind him. "I must have her back before Monday. I can't do this without her."

Montgomery sighed. "I understand, sir," he began, his American accent shining through. "We're doing our best to-"

"You do not understand!" Thomas yelled suddenly, sitting upright in the chair. His eyes threatened tears. "Amayra is my life! My everything. Without her, I am not even myself." He sat back in his chair, feeling the weight of his sadness pull him down.

Another of his men, John Tallow, spoke up.

"Sir, we can't stop now. The plan is so close to being carried out. We've already-"

"I know," Thomas huffed. "Thomas the Second, how close are we to executing our plan?"

Montgomery narrowed his eyes. He wasn't the only one here to ask. In fact, John probably knew more about it than he. Thomas always wanted Montgomery by his side at all times, but John was second captain on the project. Why did Thomas always ask him?

"We are nearly ready, sir," John spoke up. "The only task left is to bait Potter, but we've still no bait."

Thomas scoffed. "Anyone can be used as bait, Thomas the Second. If we tell him we plan to kill the most mediocre wizard we find on the street, Harry Potter will come to their rescue. That is not our issue, currently." Thomas looked around the room, an utterly bored look on his pale, long face. "Thomas the Second, what is the update on the activities of Hogwarts and the Order?"

Montgomery looked to one of their double-agents, Paxly, hanging on the wall (for he was a portrait).

"I heard talk of the aurors being held in a private location. All the students were taken home, to be protected by the professors and healthy aurors," Paxly said. "Honestly, there's been no other news I could hear from my frame, since they all seem to have abandoned Hogwarts. Your other agent is currently performing his duty as they have instructed him."

"Nothing on Harry Potter's whereabouts?" Thomas shook his head. "Thomas the Second, I'm disappointed."

Montgomery had to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. "I apologize, sir."

"We need more information on Harry Potter." Thomas opened and closed his mouth a few times with a scrunched nose, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "And more importantly, on Amayra. See if you can discover where they are keeping the healing aurors, and find a chink in whatever protection they have. She's likely to be there. If not, search every house of every student that attends Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir," all five said.

"Leave. Except for Thomas the Second." Thomas grinned at Montgomery.

In an instant, four men left the room with a crack, leaving only two.

"Montgomery," Thomas said softly, his voice changing from harsh and demanding to something more personal. "How is life without Jannine?"

Montgomery felt a hole in his chest rise, distracting him from the fact that Thomas had used his real name.

"Rather empty," he said honestly. He had thought she was the one, but he had discovered she had cheated on him with some rich pureblood wizard. He had apparently meant nothing to her.

Thomas looked down to his hands. "Describe her to me. How you saw her when you loved her."

"She was so beautiful," he whispered harshly. "More graceful than a dancing breeze. She had the body of a dancer and the soul of a painter. Straight hair that reminded me of coarse sand. She liked to scrunch it into waves that made it look like she belonged on a beach." He sniffled. He missed how things were before. "Her skin was colored like milk and dotted with dark freckles. She used to tell me she was Irish, but that the English had soiled her bloodline just enough to take away the redness in her hair. Green eyes that came out of nowhere in her family." He chuckled for a moment, finding it harder to hold back the emotion he felt building up behind his eyes. "Absolutely terrible singing voice. Couldn't hold a tune to save her life. And she hated my hometown when we went to visit. She said it was too hot and humid for her."

"Where is your hometown again?" Thomas asked, mind seemingly deep in thought.

"San Antonio, Texas," Montgomery answered. He sighed. "I tried to show her the liveliness and all the glamour of the Riverwalk there, but she wouldn't have it. She said her hometown was much greener. I can't argue with that. Tralee's countryside is beautiful."

Thomas leaned forward in his chair. "That is a most beautiful story. Not perfect, of course, but what love story is?" He paused for a moment, letting a smile grow onto his features. "We'll get her back, Thomas. Both of them."

Montgomery smirked and bowed his head slightly, the dim light casting a dark shadow across his face, seeming to make his features more sharp. "By any means necessary."

Thomas stood. "Let's start with the easy one, huh? Who was this other man she found? Where does he live?"

"Not a far enough away, I'm afraid." Montgomery said, smirk growing into a smile that seemed to mimic Thomas' own, holding out his arm for Thomas to grab.

"Just one thing, first," Thomas said. He pulled out his wand, transfiguring the chair he had sat in into a long, thin, and serrated knife. "It's more fun to do it the muggle way. You can feel them quiver beneath you with an unparalleled closeness."

Thomas put away his wand and grabbed Montgomery's arm, and they disapperated, eager about their mission.

* * *

 

The other two had gone to bed a long while ago, but Harry stood in the kitchen, his palms resting on the cold countertop and his neck tense, though his head hung loosely on it. He didn't want to think, but that was all his mind was doing. It had been working so intensely for the last few hours, he'd gotten a headache. All he wanted was peace. Peace in his mind. Peace in his life. Peace in the lives of those around him. Maybe even peace in the lives of everyone.

Could the Boy-Who-Lived ever have such a life?

Damn, there he went again. Always, he went back to that idea of himself. He was 38 years old, for Merlin's sake. He'd have thought he would have grown out of it by now. Why, then, did he unconsciously cling to it so forcefully? He didn't want to be fighting some great dark wizard every moment of his life.

What did he want out of life?

He placed one of his cooled palms on his forehead, letting the cold sink in and make his head feel better temporarily. Maybe he didn't want a normal family. But that was what he had, and he wouldn't trade it for the world, right? He didn't really like the fame, otherwise he could say he wanted his name to be remembered throughout all of history. Maybe he liked being a hero. He liked the rush of fighting the good fight and winning. He risked his life all the time. Maybe that was it.

But he liked teaching. There wasn't really risk in that. He _really_ liked teaching: bright young minds, new knowledge, seeing their successes, the pride of it all.

Was it the pride, then? He could be proud of himself after winning a big fight. He didn't feel pride a lot of the time, though. Often, he felt empty afterwards.

Was it just how he felt needed?

When he was a hero, people needed him. When he was a teacher, his students needed him. Was that it, then?

He'd never felt needed before coming to Hogwarts. He hadn't felt needed after losing his job as head auror. In both cases, he'd been tossed aside, treated like he was nothing of value. It made sense that he would try to make up for it now.

The palm on his head had warmed. He quickly switched hands, placing the warm one on the counter and the cool one on his head.

Tom understood how it felt to be treated like that. All that time at a place where others treated him like rubbish…maybe that was why he clung to Harry now, and to Gemini. They understood him. His vulnerability was less of a risk, then.

But to kiss him? Wasn't that going a bit far? He was sure that Tom understood what he had done, so why had he done it? It made the rest of the day so unclear. Harry didn't know what to say. He'd had nightmares about men coming onto him before. Well, maybe just one. About Dennis. The idea of some stranger, like Dennis, hitting on him made his skin crawl. He didn't like men like that. He wasn't gay.

He could remember that dream vividly. It hadn't happened too long ago. At first, Tom had been saying the exact same thing Dennis had been saying, hadn't he? And then somehow, at the end, Harry found Tom's presence comforting.

Tom's presence _was_ comforting. Even before their connection, Harry had seen moments of a completely human Tom, laughing and smiling. Tom was sarcastic, intelligent, and charming. He was someone who could make Harry feel needed without needing to be saved or taught. Tom just wanted to be needed, too.

They had slept in the same bed before. Tom hadn't been too keen about it, then. What changed? They had gone off on their own adventure. They had developed a friendship. They shared a mind for two days.

Maybe the mind thing was important. Harry had felt at one with Tom in those first hours. They had become a pair, just as the prophecy stated. It was a unique feeling, understanding someone completely and knowing they understood you, too, just as completely. Though he was unsure of it at first, it hadn't taken long for him to grow fond of it. It skipped pass all the explanation and miscommunication. They could easily share ideas and feelings he couldn't use words to express. Harry had said they were more than friends because they had felt like twins. Their connection was deep, yet so natural and uncomplicated.

And then, it was gone. The connection began to close and suddenly Harry didn't feel anything from him anymore. Tom hid from Harry, leaving him closed off, isolated, no longer needed. Did he really care for Harry? He had been pushing Harry away ever since. The facts seemed to confuse Harry. Being shown affection after being ignored, pushed away. It didn't make sense.

_Merlin_ , he thought, _why did he kiss me_?

_I showed you why_.

Harry turned and saw Tom's silhouette amongst the darkness of the kitchen without windows.

_I thought you went to sleep_ , Harry thought at him, hardly surprised at his presence.

_You are an incredibly loud thinker,_ he replied.

Harry felt naked, unsure of how many of his Tom's Tom had seen. If they didn't share everything anymore, where was the boundary?

_Have I made you uncomfortable, Harry_? Tom's inner voice was soft and inquisitive.

Harry had thought about it all day. The more he thought he must be, the more he discovered he didn't want to be. He didn't want to be pushed away, but he didn't want to intrude, either. He was confused in all sorts of ways, with so many questions to ask Tom and himself.

_Ask away_ , Tom thought.

Harry sighed aloud, letting his palm fall from his forehead. _You pushed me away. Why?_

_I discovered my feelings for you were deeper than I expected. Never in my life have I felt more vulnerable than that moment in which I discovered them._

Harry squinted, attempting to see more of Tom. Did he have an expression? He could only hear his words, not feel what he felt. It was such an empty sensation.

_Why?_ Harry thought. _We were both vulnerable_.

_I have never felt such a way for anyone before, Harry. I have had one relationship was more than professional._ Small bits of regret flowed through their connection. _Nagini was my friend. Slowly, she became my pet. Then, an object I owned. When she died, a part of my soul died. Along with it, I lost my only friend. I never again want to feel that remorse. The only proven method is to remain unattached. But I cannot._

_You cannot?_ Harry shook his head, not caring if Tom could sense him do so or not. _You did for a long while_.

_I hid my emotions, but they exist._

Harry placed the hand that had still been on the counter onto his head. _Why? Why me? Why kiss me when you could just as easily show me your feelings?_

_Harry_ , Tom's figure came a step closer, _I have seen into many minds. I have seen their experiences, their loved ones. Seeing into your mind is entirely different, like seeing into my own. You have genuinely cared for me since the day you saved my life and adopted me into your world without hesitation. You understood who I was from the start, and you trusted me regardless. Even after I betrayed such trust, you continued to trust me further and further. To you, I was another person, not a monster, a villain, or dark wizard. I murdered your parents, yet here we are._ Cautiously, Tom came another step closer. _I pushed myself away from you to keep myself from getting too close. But that argument occurred. The only thoughts in my mind centered on how dangerous this battle would be. I want Thomas dead because it proves the highest chance that you will survive._

Harry's heart, he realized, was beating much too fast. Was he anxious? He didn't need to be. Maybe anxious wasn't the right word. _Of course it'll be dangerous_ , he thought. _My whole life has been one dangerous quest after another. That's what it means to be me._

_You are a strong wizard. There is not much in this world you cannot defeat_. Tom took another step forward, closing the distance between them. _But as someone who cares about your wellbeing, I have my concerns._

Harry could hardly breathe. He could feel the other man's warm breath just barely grace over his cold ear. They were close, possibly too close. So why did Harry want to be closer?

"I kissed you," Tom whispered, "because I wanted to. And I wondered if you wanted to, too."

The words danced about the air and into Harry's ears and around his mind. That wasn't the answer he'd expected, but what had he been expecting?

With hesitation, Harry reached through their connection, nudging at the barrier Tom had created between their minds. Tom let him in easily, allowing Harry once again to feel what it was like to be him. There was pain and a past, hesitation and doubt, concern and regret. Every emotion Tom did not want to feel, uncovered. Maybe he was vulnerable, but he trusted Harry.

Harry dug inside his mind, searching. It did not take him long to find it: the love Tom felt for Harry. How was it possible for him? A man conceived under a love spell, abused and neglected throughout his childhood, who split his soul into several pieces, who once attempted to murder him at every turn, who he had killed many times. How did they still have the ability to carry anything more than hatred for one another?

Tom slowly lifted a hand, letting his fingertips run across the smooth skin of Harry's cheek. The sensation tickled for a moment, then was over the next. When his hand fell back to his side, Harry longed for him to do it again.

_Maybe I do_ , Harry thought.

Tom drew his face closer to Harry's so that Harry could feel his breath down his neck. Their noses were millimeters apart. Harry waited for their lips to meet again, but Tom did not move any closer, inviting Harry to make the move instead.

Harry raised his warm hand, placed his fingers under Tom's jaw, and gently ran his thumb across Tom's lips, smooth and slightly parted. Without further delay, Harry closed the distance between them, pressing his lips onto Tom's.

The connection between them opened as if someone had released the floodgates. They were of one mind and one body, feeling what the other felt and understanding it together. Their kiss deepened as they felt the fluttering of the other's pulse, the butterflies raging in their stomach, and the immense love stocked in their heart. Everything had happened so soon, but they felt as if they had truly known one another all their life.

The kiss ended, but their minds remained clasped together. Harry could hardly believe what was happening. He'd kissed Tom, and he had enjoyed it, possibly more than he had enjoyed many things that had happened in his life.

"Come sleep, Harry," Tom whispered, his fingers finding Harry's in the dark. "We've got another long day ahead of us."

Instead of answering, Harry just allowed himself to be lead down the hall to Tom's room.

Once inside, they could hear the quiet breathing of Gemini. The pair stopped before the foot of both of their beds. Harry had transfigured some chairs into his and Gemini's bed, but as he stared at his own bed, he wondered if he needed to stay in it.

_We have slept together before_ , Tom thought. _My bed is available to you if you so desire._

Harry smiled, a small blush on his cheeks, pulling out his wand to silently transfigure the bed back into a chair.

Tom then led Harry by his other hand to his bed, letting go only to climb upon it and slide over to make room. Harry followed, getting under the covers and finding them incredibly smooth on his skin, almost as if they floated over him. He turned to face Tom.

_I apologize for today_ , Tom thought. _I never meant to hurt you._

_I know,_ Harry replied. _I forgive you._

Relief flowed over them, allowing their sleepiness full reign over their minds. Harry scooted a bit closer to Tom, finding himself perfectly comfortable. They both fell into sleep easily.

* * *

 

The moon lit up the darkened sky a while. As the night passed by, it realized its heaviness and began to sink and fade. From a distance, the moon watched as the sun peaked over the horizon, casting its first rays of light on the greenery of the West Country.

Janet Baker sat alone in a room for hours, staring out the window at the grasses and trees that seemed to surround the house. There was nothing out there; she was assured earlier by Molly Weasley. She was a wonderful woman, always trying to make her feel at home. She appreciated the effort, but she hadn't had a home in so long.

She waited, staring at the edge of the plot, wondering if Thomas would suddenly show up to take her back to the hell-hole she had lived in for so long. She could vividly imagine his long, pale face, blonde hair, and intent look in his eyes. He'd strut through the field like it was nothing, and knock down the door, yelling out her name as if calling back a lost puppy. That was all she was to him.

He had tried for so long to convince her that he loved her. But if he loved her, why had he taken so much from her? He decided everything for her, even her name. He fed her and punished her, put her to sleep and took her to bed, bathed her and dressed her. What had she ever had of her own? He was an awful man who thought he had good intentions. He tortured people and bathed in their blood. He had often made her bathe with him. He had tried to get her to torture with him, but she simply could not do it. He took, instead, to torturing her alongside those he tortured. He thought it was sexy. He thought her own blood covering her body was sexy. He thought her bruises and wounds and broken bones and tears were attractive and that her screams of pain were screams of ecstasy. What kind of sick world did he live in?

She had no more tears to cry over that man. In a world away from him, she wondered what she would do. She had been gone a long while. Many probably thought she was dead. She may as well be. She had nothing to offer society anymore. She could hardly function to care for herself, and she knew that. Could she survive a job? How would she afford a house? Would she ever have friends, or any relationships at all? All she knew now was what Thomas had done to her for seven years.

There was a soft knock at the door. It did not startle her, but she wondered for a moment, if it was Thomas, coming to claim her once more.

Mrs. Weasley popped her head through the doorway. "Janet, dear, lunch is ready. Did you sleep?"

She put on a small pleasant smile. "I did," she replied softly. "The policemen outside made me feel quite safe."

Molly chuckled to herself. "That's wonderful, dear, but those aren't policemen. They're aurors." She stepped into the room, holding the door open for Janet. "Will you head to breakfast, then? Even if you decide not to eat, we'd love for you to join us."

There were many odd things about this house she did not understand. What were aurors? How could Molly bustle about all day at her age? How did this house, which also looked rather aged, stay up so long? Janet smiled. She wasn't sure she minded the oddity. She was in a place where she had choice. She could choose if she wanted to eat, and when. She could choose when to bathe, and when to sleep. It was the most human she had felt in a long time.

"I think I will."

Janet stood and walked through the door and down the stairs, Ms. Weasley following shortly after her.

When she reached the bottom of the steps, she found the ground floor of the house crowded with people, bustling about, laughing, and passing empty plates this way and that. She stopped just past the doorway.

"Come along, everyone," Mrs. Weasley called out. "We won't have _nearly_ enough room inside. Let's all move outside."

Immediately, everyone picked up a plate and began to make their way out the door. "Minny!" Mrs. Weasley called out, "Please start on the table."

From the front of the crowd, Hermione held up her thumb as the crowd pushed her outside the door.

Mrs. Weasley sighed contentedly as the room emptied, leaving only Janet and herself. "Janet, dear, you can eat in here if it makes you feel more comfortable, but there's also a spot outside if you wish. Oh, let me get you a plate."

Mrs. Weasley made her way to the kitchen with Janet trailing behind her. Janet had seen the kitchen a few times before, but never quite so busy. The small, polite smile on her face grew in happiness. Molly had warned her about the kitchen. Everything in there did things on its own. She had seen the water boil itself and the ingredients plop themselves in, the turkey prepare its own dressing and rest itself in the oven to bake, dishes dance to the sink and clean themselves before whizzing back to their cabinet. It was always quite a show. Janet wondered how it was all possible, but Mrs. Weasley had just winked and whispered, "Magic."

Right now, the carving knife was slicing roast after roast, working fast to cut enough for everyone present. Many spoons lifted themselves to stir the potatoes in several pots once more as salt sprinkled over the top and sprigs of rosemary dropped their leaves. Another few pots rose into the air and over to the sink, draining the water from the asparagus one right after the other. How all these things cooked at the same time on one tiny stove was beyond Janet.

"Here you are, dear." Mrs. Weasley smiled at her, another empty plate in her hands. "I'll leave some of everything here for you." As Mrs. Weasley turned and left, the pots and meat platters flew into the air, floating behind her in a neat line. Janet watched in amusement until the very last dish had left. As she looked around, she realized Mrs. Weasley had left her one pot of potatoes, one pot of asparagus, and one whole roast. She laughed to herself, knowing full well she would never amount to eating such a portion, but appreciating the absolute kindness. It gave her hope that she thought she had long ago lost.

She put a spoonful of the potatoes and asparagus on her plate and a couple slices of meat before turning from the kitchen and going to the seat she had grown fond of at the dining table. As she sat, she looked out the living room window, seeing the large group of people all sitting around one table, smiles on their faces and food on their plates. She saw how easily these people fell into such a comfortable setting. She knew what some of them had been through.

Those "aurors", as Mrs. Weasley had called them, were in Thomas's torture chamber not too long ago, chained to the wall alongside her, or caged up the stairs. Thomas would bring down a few at a time, asking them various bits of information that she didn't understand. She thought she would be the only constant there, but she wasn't. One man with flaming red hair seemed to be his favorite, and he was there nearly as often as she was. She had watched his decline. He had been so stubborn and courageous for so long, but he too had been broken.

She remembered the day she saw it happen. Thomas promised he'd get his chance to torture his wife, Hermione, and their children; it had seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary as he had yelled and screamed, but Thomas had pulled out his barbed whip and beat him mercilessly until he was on the border of consciousness. He made more comments along that line, remarking how he was powerless to save them. Instead of his usual rebelliousness, the man stayed silent. She had almost thought that maybe he had gone unconscious, or worse, but his chest heaved heavily. Then Thomas had said the vilest thing.

"When I give you back, I want them to know that I broke you. I want your friends and family to know that you will never recover. I want your children's children to know the information you and your men gave me was just what I needed to infiltrate the school and steal your people from you. I _want them_ to know that Ronald Billeus Weasley will _never_ be anything but the hero's dumb sidekick."

Janet saw his tears, though he was silent. He had never before cried, though his men often had. He had been a beacon of hope for them, and she had watched as Thomas snubbed out every bit of light in their world.

Now, they seemed so carefree. Maybe it was because they had been returned. Maybe it was because they had been destroyed but healed soon after. Maybe it was because they were with loved ones who cared about them. Whatever it was, Janet wanted it.

Janet stood, picking up her plate and making her way outside. As she stepped through the doorway to the house, she realized she didn't know where to go.

"Janet, over this way!" Hermione called out to her, waving a hand to get her attention.

Janet carefully made her way over, unsure of everything. There were so many people, all wearing battered faces with bruises and cuts. But she could see one empty white chair beside Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. That seat was saved for her.

"Janet, dear, I'm glad you could make it." Mrs. Weasley smiled at her. "If it gets to be too much, I can tell the boys to calm down. Just let me know."

Hermione smiled at her, too. "Janet, it's good to see you out. I know this isn't exactly the easiest situation with all these people here, but we're celebrating. Ron finally is able to stand and eat real food. He's been awake all day." She smiled and looked to the man beside her.

Ron's eyes, though very red around the rims, were nothing but happy. His features were softer than Janet had ever seen them, as he smiled and held out a hand to introduce himself.

"I'm Ron."

Janet nodded her head, not taking his hand. _Ronald Billeus Weasley_ , she thought, _Head of the group._ "Pleased to meet you. I'm glad you've finally recovered."

After a moment, Ron pulled back his hand awkwardly. "Sorry. I-uh…"

Janet could see as thoughts ran across his mind, too. Thoughts of her nightly screams they likely had to fall asleep to. Thoughts of her blood everywhere. Thoughts of her voice, hoarse and dry. Thoughts of Thomas's body upon her own, taking from her whatever he pleased…

_It happened_ , she thought to herself. _It's happening? Maybe this is just a dream. It feels much like a dream. I'm unconscious in the torture room, and I'll wake up to Thomas over me in bed, acting like he cares about me._ If it was a dream, she was sure going to make it once that counted.

"No, I'm sorry." She held out her hand and Ron took it, smirk on his face. "How impolite of me."

They all began eating except for Hermione, who was telling Ron the story of how they rescued some woman named Ginny from a ministry, though they didn't mention which one. Janet listened along, quietly eating her food, enjoying how real it tasted on her tongue and filled her empty stomach.

_Maybe this isn't a dream_ , she thought. _Maybe this is heaven_.

She looked around at all the people. Maybe they had all died after leaving that torture chamber, and she and Hermione had died before those two men could save them.

_It's alright_. She smiled and looked around. _I can't be hurt here._

Down the table, one man stood, holding his glass high in a bruised and bandaged hand. "Let's give a toast for Ron! May he continue on the path to good health!"

Everyone rose their glasses in the air with a cheer, and Janet smiled, grabbing the glass of water before her, and rising it up and clinking it against the glasses of others. She watched as everyone smiled and laughed without a care I the world. If they were able to overcome such a terrible experience, maybe Janet could, too.

She sighed contentedly. _This must be heaven._


	32. A Fiery Beast

"Gemini," Tom spoke across the table, "what would you like to occupy yourself with for the rest of today?"

Gemini looked up from his lunch. "The rest of today? I thought today was going to be another training day." He placed another bite of Harry's casserole into his mouth.

"Well, we _did_ polish up some attacks this morning," Harry jumped in, "but I thought that maybe we needed a break. We can always train some more later on." Harry smiled.

_We do not know when Thomas will attack, Harry,_ Tom thought. _It could be any moment now. We still need to discover his weakness._

"We will need to be ready for whatever moment Thomas decides to attack, of course." Harry took another bite, pausing briefly to chew and swallow his food. "Wands and other weapons will need to be at hand at every moment. But we should have some time to rest."

Gemini's tan colored eyes grew into a deep chocolate brown as he lost himself in thought. He'd had a dream last night. It had been so realistic, and he woke feeling so unsure. Maybe…maybe he could make it better.

"Could…" Gemini's doubts began to cloud his mind. _Why on Earth would these men want to help you?_ they said. _They have more important things to do. You mean nothing to them_. "Could we maybe talk about something?"

"Something in particular or something in general?" Tom's eyes met Gemini's, confused to how the boy was feeling behind the look of concentration he wore.

"Something in particular," he replied.

"Of course," Harry answered with a smile. He stood, his plate empty for the first time in a long time. He glanced at the plates of the others, finding that Tom was nearly finished and that Gemini had hardly taken more than a few bites. Was something bothering him?

Harry took his plate to the kitchen, placing it in the sink and rinsing it off. In moments, a gust of wind blew around him, trying to knock the plate out of his hands. He simply laughed.

"Yes, yes. Fine. I'll put it down." Harry carefully left the plate in the sink as the winds around him calmed. "It's a habit. I apologize."

As soon as the plate touched the sink, the winds started back up, blowing the water onto the bar of soap that floated in its grasp and pushing the solution onto the plate.

"Thank you," Harry said as he left the kitchen to head back to the dining table.

"Is everyone else done?" Harry asked Tom and Gemini.

Gemini nodded. "It was very delicious, but I just wasn't very hungry."

Harry picked up Gemini's plate and looked to Tom.

_I could not even manage one more bite,_ he thought.

With a nod, Harry picked up Tom's plate too, and made his way to the kitchen once more.

"Are you feeling well, Gemini?" Tom asked, curious and concerned for the boy so much like himself.

Gemini took in a slow breath. "I'm fine. I just feel rather lost in thought, I suppose. I had an odd dream last night."

"What sort of dream?" Tom placed his forearms on the table, leaning his torso over the table just slightly. Tom opened his mind enough so that Harry could hear as well.

"Well," Gemini began, "I was walking down a long hallway. There weren't any doors at first, but after a while, an opened door appeared at the end of the hallway and I went into the room. Inside the room was…just me." Gemini said, eyes shifting, not staying in one place for more than a second. "Like, I was in the center of the room but I was looking at me from the entrance of the room. I watched my eyes go red and my hair turn black. There was suddenly a bunch of wind and lightning. The wind began to tear apart the room, taking chunks out of the walls and bits of the floor. I was yelling at myself to stop, but I guess I couldn't hear me. I didn't stop until the room was gone. And then I watched myself go completely pale, losing all color, and fall to the ground. I ran to me, but I wasn't moving." Gemini swallowed hard. "I was dead."

Harry reentered the room, a concerned look on his face. Nightmares were something he understood.

Tom simply nodded. "Are you not confident in the training we gave you, Gemini? You have such incredible control over your powers. Control only matched, I believe, by myself at your age."

Though Gemini's eyes turned a light purple, his expression did not change. "It doesn't feel like I have control. It feels like it's like my eyes: determined by my feelings. I can't control how I feel, or when. What if this power in me is the same?"

"Gemini," Harry said as he made his way back to his chair. "I don't know if you've realized, but you don't need to control your emotions. Emotions are something we just feel. But we do have control over how we handle them." Harry smiled softly at him. "Anger drives us to do crazy things, but we don't have to give in to that. Willpower is the strongest force against that."

Both Tom and Gemini stared at Harry in confusion. "Willpower?" they both asked, incredulously.

Harry smiled bigger and brighter now. "It's a Gryffindor secret, I suppose. Yes, willpower. It's control over one's self."

Tom suddenly scoffed. "I hardly thought any Gryffindor students had _any_ control over themselves."

_Ha ha_ , Harry thought sarcastically. "That's because what you think is stupid, we think is bravery. That's where our willpower derives from. He can put away our fear and charge in to whatever we were once afraid of. I can be under the Imperious curse and walk out the other side, back in my own head." Harry looked between the two others. Maybe it was because they were in other houses, but they seemed shocked.

"An _Imperious_ curse?" Tom asked.

Harry nodded. "Yep. One of the unforgivable. That is the power of willpower."

"Is that your big secret to your power, Harry?" Tom had a half smile on his face, unsure of quite how he felt about it.

"I like to think so." Harry smiled. "It doesn't hurt that my parents were two very powerful wizards."

Gemini sighed. "I should have been a Gryffindor."

Tom and Harry both turned to look at Gemini, eyebrows high.

"Gryffindor won't do anything for you if you don't belong there, Gemini," Tom said. "You are _much_ more refined than most, if not all, of the brave idiots in that house."

Harry chuckled. "Well, I can't argue there. I can't imagine a Ravenclaw student trying to survive six or seven years in Gryffindor house. I'm sure they'd never get their homework done. Maybe end up in a few more fights than they intended to."

Looking to Gemini's saddened features, Harry quickly sobered.

"The point is, Gemini, that you don't have to be a Gryffindor to have control over something like this. It just takes practice. Would you feel better if we practiced more?"

Gemini swallowed and nodded.

"Alright, but may we please practice in a place with less to destroy?" Tom asked. "Even the most controlled of winds are still winds that ruffle my books."

"Yes, of course," Harry replied, standing. "Shall we pick an empty room?"

Instead of responding, Tom stood and began to lead the way. Harry and Gemini followed shortly behind him, wondering where they were headed.

Tom opened the first door in the hallway, opening up to a mostly empty room, save for one really old, grey sitting chair.

"This is it," Tom stated simply.

They all walked inside, looking curiously at the plainness of the room. The walls were the color of plaster, as if no one had bothered to add a layer of paint when the room was finished being built. The floor was a plain wood that, on closer inspection, turned out to be just a pattern on linoleum. The chair, stuck in the far corner of the room, looked as if it had been bought from a secondhand shop long ago, but now needed to be tossed. Springs pressed against the bottom cushion, threatening to bust right onto the bum of anyone who sat down.

In an instant, Harry shrunk the chair and picked it up, setting it in his pocket. "All ready for practice, then."

Gemini, the last one into the room, closed the door behind him, face drowning in uncertainty, his yellow eyes barely staying afloat. He took in a deep breath, letting it out in a shaky rush. Did he really want to do this?

Both Harry and Tom watched Gemini. Harry thought of how to improve his confidence, and of any tips he could offer. Tom gauged his emotions, predicting his outcomes and reactions to what they were about to do. The pair opened their minds, sharing data and theory, hoping to get the best results for their young fighter.

"Gemini," Harry began, "what worries you? Are you scared you'll hurt us? Or that you'll lose control? Because I can guarantee that I can protect all three of us from whatever you have in store."

_Maybe not the proper wording_ , Tom thought. _He thinks his powers are a threat, and you just implied that we need to be protected from them._ Tom looked the boy over once more. "Gemini, you are afraid. We understand that. But to properly have control over your powers, you must practice. Do not hold back, and do not let your frightened feelings interact with your power. That power belongs to you. You decide how to control it. You are their master."

The two watched as Gemini stood still, staring at his hands with his yellow eyes. Even if the room was rather small, Gemini managed to look so miniscule inside it. He was such a small child already, and the insecurity he felt only seemed to exaggerate it.

_Maybe we're both going about this wrong_ , Harry thought. _We're not saying the right things._

_We are not appealing to the correct emotions,_ Tom added. _He does not want to have this power, clearly. We are attempting to coax a beast from him that he does not wish to release._

Harry's eyebrows drew together in thought. What were they to do? He didn't want to push Gemini past limits he had set for himself, but Gemini was supposed to be at the fight. Could he possibly survive with what little magic they had taught him? He was just barely a first year…

Abstract thoughts ran across Tom's mind to Harry's: pictures, motions, and words. Without thinking, Harry followed along, as if he had thought them himself. The two of them moved to stand on either side of Gemini. The boy looked between them in confusion, noticing the way they seemed to move in sync, like they were twins. Before he realized it, Harry had his wand in his hand.

" _ **Legilimens**_."

The pair soared into Gemini's mind, searching for the source of his incredible fear.

Suddenly, they were both walking down a hallway at Hogwarts. Though it seemed empty, there was one door at the end of the hallway, and they watched as the door opened, light spilling out from the incredibly bright room.

A woman, faintly familiar, sat in a chair, smiling at them as if they were the sun that gave life to the earth.

"Gemini, my dear," she spoke softly. "Who are your new friends?"

Suddenly, Harry's children popped into the room, large smiles on their faces.

"Wow, this is the coolest chocolate frog card, Gemini!" Albus shouted with glee.

"We're your new family, Gemini," Lily stated. "We'll be there for you just like we're there for each other."

"Come on, Gem," James said, offering his hand out to grab, "join our hug. You're family, too."

Beside them, Professor Davies appeared.

"Gemini, this is the quickest any of my students have picked up this spell. It's truly fairly tricky for a first year to master, especially at this point in the year. Well done."

Beside him, Harry appeared, a bag of candy in one hand. "I'll keep you company, Gemini. Let's go find a compartment to sit in."

Next to him, Ginny materialized. She chuckled. "You truly are a brilliant one, aren't you? I think you might give my sister-in-law a run for her money."

Another chair appeared, Tom sitting in it with a smirk on his face. "Perfect. Continue to practice like this, and you may find yourself ready to graduate from Hogwarts very soon."

The pair looked back over the entire room, watching as each and every face seemed to suddenly fall into fear.

"Gemini, what are you doing?" Lily asked suddenly, eyes growing teary.

Around them, wind began to blow, swirling and picking up speed.

"Don't do this, Gemini," James growled, a look of ferocity on his features.

"Control, Gemini!" Harry yelled, his hands bracing himself from the raging air. "Control!"

Though the room seemed to break into a panic as the wallpaper began to tear from the walls and the glass began to shatter in the windows, the woman in the chair just shook her head as her hair blew about her face.

"I'm sorry, Gemini," her voice was barely audible over the great roar of the wind as it grew into a twister.

Harry and Tom watched from the center of the storm as everyone around them ran about, looking for an escape other than the one that they were blocking. They watched as the weakened walls began to crack and blister, sending dust and wood particles into the air. They watched as the frame of the room seemed to collapse in on itself, crushing everyone in the room but them. Then the winds died and there was nothing but silence.

Their view stepped back, then, to see Gemini, pale and shaking, fall to the floor.

Harry and Tom released Gemini's mind, all three of them returning to the present. Gemini had fallen to his knees, eyes a crash of navy and yellow like a midnight lightning storm.

"You're scared of losing your friends," Harry whispered, not wanting to break the tension of the room completely.

"You are frightened of losing control and losing their faith in you," Tom stated at normal volume.

Tears leaked from Gemini's eyes. "How…" he began, but could not finish. "Why…"

Suddenly, Tom reached into Harry's mind, sending more actions. Harry pulled up his wand once more, but halted himself as he saw what he was about to do. "What are you doing?" he asked aloud.

Gemini's eyes flicked to Harry, thinking he was talking to him, only to find him staring incredulously at Tom.

_I am attempting to aid the boy,_ Tom thought to Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Forcing him isn't going to help anything. You just saw what he's frightened of. You think I want to just jump into his head and push on his powers until they come out?"

"It was only a nightmare," Tom said aloud, since the conversation was already verbal.

"Only a nightmare?" Harry crossed his arms. "Do you have any idea what a nightmare is? It's not just bad dreams, Tom! It's your worst fears happening just before your eyes. It's watching people you care about die! It's seeing yourself lose control to something you thought you could control. It's the worst villain you can think up, and sometimes the villain is you." Harry took in a deep breath. Had he meant to get so worked up?

Tom said through his teeth, "I am simply lending what help I can to-"

_You call this help?_ Harry scoffed aloud. _Reaching into his mind and forcing his powers out? That will absolutely ensure that he fears his powers even more and will never be able to control them._

"Sometimes such things are necessary, though they hard difficult." Tom's brown eyes blazed with anger. "Sink or swim is the expression."

"Sink or swim?!" Harry's mouth laid agape for a moment.

_Yes,_ Tom thought. _We must be that first push to his release. Show him how to control his powers then let him assume control._

"So we're supposed to just open his powers then hoist them on him and expect him to understand control just by feeling us…no, _me_ do it for him? How can you even think such a thing is good for anyone?" Harry gripped his wand, anger and stress taking over his body. "Have you ever had experience with something like this? You've never even had a real friend before, let alone a student."

As soon as he said it, Harry knew he had crossed some line. Hadn't they been happy together just last night? Hadn't they understood each other at last? What had happened?

Harry had let his anger have control.

Harry could feel the hurt leak from Tom's mind, though he tried to close it off. "I may not have teaching experience or friends or family," Tom answered, ears turning red at the tops, "but at least that means I did not have to watch myself ruin their lives trying to live in my past."

Harry's heart went cold. He hadn't meant to insult him before, but now maybe he wanted to.

"Funny enough," he began, no emotion in his voice, "you did try to live in your past. You just happened to ruin the lives of _everyone_ while trying to do it. You didn't need friends of family for that."

"Yes," Tom answered softly, trying still to hold back his mind. Harry could feel small leakages of pain, remorse. "I wanted my power back. You must have as well, since you kept my portrait, and helped me along to exit it. Did you miss being famous for defeating me? Was glory and heroism worth killing your loved ones over? You must have thought so."

"Stop," Gemini spoke up suddenly, unheard by either man.

"I did not _kill_ anyone I loved!" Harry screamed, absolute fury burning in his blood. "You and your bloody Death Eaters who wanted to rule the world killed them! You wanted _all that power_ and did anything to get it! Now look where you are! You can't even do magic!"

Just as Tom seemed about to reply back, a thick wind began to blow around them, heavy with water. Their anger dissipated as they both looked to Gemini, sobbing on the floor as a storm began to form around him.

"Gemini!" Harry tried to yell, but he could hardly hear himself, let alone have Gemini hear him. He looked to Tom in panic but found he could no longer see him through the storm. He bared his arms over his eyes to keep the water out of them as the wind picked up even more.

_He certainly has no control over this storm_ , Tom thought.

A chill cut into Harry's wet body, making his once warm skin ice cold. As he looked around, he couldn't even see Gemini.

_Where's Gemini? I have to get to him._

_He should be to your left. Be cautious, the storm appears to be more condensed the closer you become to him._

Harry took a small step to his left, feeling the cold cause his bones to ache. Did Harry dare try to lift his wand and risk losing it to the wind? He could hardly keep himself standing.

Maybe he shouldn't stand.

Harry got onto his hands and knees, staying as close to the ground as possible. He carefully crawled along the floor, feeling most of the wind pass over him. He didn't look up until he felt the winds began to lighten up against his back, and found that when he did, he could see Gemini at last.

"Gemini," he said, finding his voice carried well enough without having to yell. "You're going to over exert yourself. We're sorry. We didn't mean to do this to you."

The winds around them began to slow as Gemini met Harry's eyes. They were sad, and yet surprised. He had thought for sure that Harry and Tom would hate him after releasing such a storm. He knew it would be cold. He knew it would be wet. He knew all it would be. And he released it anyway. He couldn't bottle it up any longer.

But Harry apologized?

Before the winds stopped completely, Harry made a motion to send a quick repair spell to the room but found it did not need it. The walls were perfectly intact, save for the few splashes of water that had reached them. It seemed that this storm had been so condensed it hadn't even reached the walls.

Harry got to his knees, intending to stand completely, but instead made his way to sit beside Gemini.

"I'm impressed," Harry said pointing to the walls. "Nothing but some water on the walls." He smiled as a shiver went through his cold body. "I thought you had a knack for taking the paint off walls."

Gemini looked to Harry, eyes wet and dark, then to Tom, who stood just to their right. Harry looked at him, too. His clothes were soaked and hanging limply from his body, weighing him down. In this light, his cheeks shined. Harry knew it had been the storm to wet them, but he couldn't help but think about tears on them. Did Tom Riddle cry anymore? Was he capable of such a vulnerable thing?

"I'm sorry, Tom," Harry said, voice low and quiet. "I crossed a line. I didn't say those things to make a point. I said them to hurt you."

Tom said nothing, looking at the floor.

Harry worried as he felt nothing from his mind. Did he hurt him too much? He hadn't meant to take it so far. But he could admit that he had meant to start it.

Harry just got so angry at times…could he not be satisfied with anything good in his life?

Carefully, Harry stood, feeling his own wet clothes weigh him down as he did so. "I've made so many mistakes in my life," he admitted suddenly. "I'm nowhere near perfect, though everyone expects me to be. I have made mistakes with my family, especially my children. I've learned from these things and…" he glanced at Gemini, "I don't want to make the same mistakes again. Especially with someone so dangerously close to becoming me. I mean, nightmares? And an evil villain to kill. A prophecy. No parents. Not properly cared for until reaching Hogwarts." Harry shook his head, looking back to Tom. "I don't want Gemini to end up like me."

Tom nodded. "I suppose you are right," he stated softly. "I was attempting to treat him as if he were me as a child. He does not want power. He has friends and others who care for him." Tom glanced at Gemini for a moment. "So powerful. So much control. I must admit, I am jealous of the magic that flows in your blood." With a sigh, he looked back to Harry. "I apologize. I never should have tried to use your magic. I am still…" he hesitated, "coming to terms with having no magic."

Harry took a step closer to Tom, opening his mind to its fullest extent, pushing on Tom to do the same. They could speak all day, but nothing would ever be able to match their connection. Harry longed to feel what Tom felt, and for Tom to feel how he felt. They had been acting as separate beings, but he truly felt as if they should be one.

Tom's mind stayed firmly shut.

"Let me in, Tom." Harry took another step towards him. "Don't lock me out. Let me show you how I feel. How sorry I am."

Gemini glanced between the two. What on earth were they talking about? He'd heard them fight just moments ago, but the arguments seemed cut off at parts. And even before that, they moved together, like one was a mirror of the other. Was he missing something?

Tom shivered. He could feel it coming up, but he did not want to give in to it. He would never again be that weak child he once was. But the more he looked at Harry, the more he felt it.

"Let me understand," Harry whispered.

He craved the connection, more than anything; Tom could sense it. Harry's emotions were so much as they pushed against his barriers. Was he not capable of leaving him be in his own mind for a few moments while he composed himself? Why did he need to be in his mind?

As soon as Tom thought the question, he knew the answer. Tom had felt how different Harry was in his mind. Tom felt how truly scared and worried and helpless Harry felt at all times. The Harry on the outside was only half the story, and he could not help but fall in love with the whole picture. Their connection was a pleasure Tom was sure he never wanted to be without.

But he did not want to give in to this weakness. He would not.

Tom could feel his legs underneath him grow weak. He was failing so miserably at holding himself together: something he had once been a master at. His mask was crumbling fast and he could not stop it, though he tried.

"Tom, please," Harry pleaded. He hoped with all his heart and soul that he hadn't ruined this. "Let me in."

Harry's mind pushed once more against Tom's barrier and found it crumpled, releasing a flood of one emotion, overtaking Harry's mind with great strength.

Tom's knees buckled beneath him, and he fell to the floor with a thud. He knew Harry had seen it. There was no reason to hold it all back. So he let it all go.

Warm tears fell from his eyes, running down his damp cheeks and along his chin. His breathing began to grow irregular, shaking his chest as he tried to inhale and exhale much too quickly. An overwhelming feeling came over him of darkness and despair. If he had such power, he could imagine himself conjuring a storm as great (if not greater) than Gemini's. But that was just it.

He had no magic.

Over 92 years had gone by since his birth, and who was he now? He was not great. He was not powerful. He was not even a wizard. He was just as human as his terrible father, whom he was named after. He could remember himself, just a small child, wishing he were as normal as anyone else. Did he finally get his wish? Or was this some cruel karma come to punish him for his terrible actions? He was sure he deserved either. Harry was right. He had been too greedy, too selfish. Could he even be considered a person now?

Harry watched Tom in complete and utter shock. He watched him as he dissolved into tears, then sobs, complete and utter depression flowing through the connection. How could he even offer comfort to a man who wished for nothing more than magic in his veins?

From behind Harry, Gemini came to Tom's side, eyes a soft, cool blue. He sat beside him, simply watching as his tears flowed for a moment, then spoke.

"I don't mean to offend you, Tom, but I'm rather glad you don't have you magic."

Harry stared at Gemini, not sure what to say. The overwhelming grief from Tom's mind paralyzed him. Harry wasn't used to this sort of sadness, but rather the kind that comes with anger and an unabated desire to fight.

Gemini went on as Tom looked at him in horror. "What I mean is, would we have met like we had if you still had your magic? You told me that you like power, and once wanted to get it at any cost. Wouldn't you have chosen to be on Thomas' side?"

He paused a long moment as thoughts seemed to collect on Tom's face.

"I would much rather have a magicless Tom who is my friend than a magic Tom who wants me dead. And you would have never given me a chance if this hadn't happened. How different is the world, now? You don't have magic, but you have friends. I mean, you have me. And you have Mr. Potter." Gemini's blue eyes faded to a grey before going tan. "We can't offer you power, but we can give you friendship."

The grief from Tom's head began to clear, and Harry could feel his own thoughts again. He smiled softly and joined the other two on the floor.

_We've got something going here, Tom_ , Harry thought. _And I wouldn't trade it for the world. You know, if I don't mess it up, and all. I'm fairly good at that, as you've noticed,_ he teased.

Through tears, Tom scoffed. _Understatement_ , he thought, sadness receding a bit. _I have not cried in eighty-five years._

_Merlin,_ Harry thought. _I have quite an apology to make, then._

Aloud, Harry said, "I'm sorry, Tom. I never should've said that. I was…well, a git."

"I do not understand what a 'git' is, but I am more than sure you are one," Tom replied, cautiously wiping the water and tears from his face. _But I love you anyway,_ he thought, _and I would not trade you for all the power in the world._ He sighed. _But it does hurt._

Harry smiled and nodded. _I know it does. We'll get through this._

* * *

 

Two bloodless bodies lay ravaged in a now burning house which Thomas and Montgomery walked away from. Thomas smiled, and he truly felt it, at last.

"That was just…positively lovely, Montgomery," he said, turning around to watch the house become engulfed in flames.

Montgomery stopped dead in his tracks. "In all my years…" he mumbled to himself, American accent shining brightly. "Did you just call me by my name?" he asked, louder.

Thomas nodded, though still stared at the house. "I did. I may call you Thomas the Second again, but at the moment, you are Montgomery."

Montgomery gave a chuckle, standing beside Thomas to watch the house burn. They were quiet a moment.

"Well," Thomas spoke suddenly, spinning on the dot. "We've got plenty of work to do, now don't we? _Beasts_ to release, and all."

Montgomery nodded, content face falling back into a professional one. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, the hell with it," Thomas said, pulling out his wand. "Let's go burn down all of London right _now_. They'll never expect it."

Montgomery grabbed his wand as well, preparing to apparate. "But sir, what about Amayra?"

Thomas sighed. "Oh, she's not at all that important. The plan comes first. She'll have to wait until half the world is on fire." His face was serious a moment before it broke into uncontained glee. He began laughing loudly, as if he wanted the whole world to hear.

"We'll catch fire to half the world and watch the rest of it burn!"

With a quick wand movement, they disapparated.

The house in flames continued to burn, crack and pops growing in number. Around it, the grasses and trees caught fire, too, engulfing the whole area. The fire was insatiable, wanting more and more, engulfing everything that dared to be near it.


	33. Icy Beads

The news came to them midday, as the breeze outside the house died down and the sun retreated behind unusual grey clouds in the sky. They had finished lunch and were sitting in the library, meditating over the events of earlier that day. All three knew, upon seeing the dog patronus, what it meant.

"Harry, Tom, Gemini," the terrier said in Ron's serious voice, "it's started just outside of Leckwith. It's already spread to most of that area of Wales. It's all greenery. We don't know where he is, but we can't put out the fires, yet. You've got to find him before the fire takes out all of Britain."

Tom spoke up almost immediately after the message faded away. "What is in Leckwith?"

"He could just be picking randomly," Harry answered. "Thomas is mad. It doesn't have to make sense."

"Alternatively," Tom replied, "he was there for a reason. Thomas is mad, but that does not necessarily mean he does not make conscious decisions."

"It's all greenery, he said," added Gemini. "Maybe the spell catches faster on plants? He's going for speed, not precision?"

Harry sent a quick patronus back with their theories. "We still need to figure out his weakness."

Gemini shrank in his chair, eyes turning a yellow-green. "It's not me, is it?"

Tom shook his head. "I mean nothing offensive to you, Gemini, but I am certain Thomas has not given you a second thought since we removed you from his company."

Harry's face lit up, "Is it Janet? I mean, he thinks she is his wife. So technically, it's his wife, but same concept."

Tom nodded in agreement. "I think that is highly likely. We should develop a plan around her, with a backup in the event that he no longer cares for her either."

_It's difficult to think he actually cares about her_ , Harry thought, _when he tortured her like she was a prisoner._

"What sort of plan?" Gemini asked. "She won't be bait for him, right?"

In response, Tom gave a non-committal shrug while Harry shook his head confidently.

Abhorred, Harry stated with a stubborn tone, "Absolutely not. I won't allow it."

Tom began, "If it is the difference between our win and our loss-"

"I would rather lose, fighting to my dying breath to protect those who cannot protect themselves, before I would even _consider_ the thought of using Janet that way." Harry's voice was so loud he was practically yelling. "If we do that, we are no better than Thomas, using her for his pleasure, however he saw fit!"

Gemini nodded beside him, eyes now a pointed brown, like they were cast from bronze. "I agree. Human bait is rarely ever a smart choice. Who is Janet, anyway?"

Harry and Tom shared thoughts of confusion that showed on their faces.

"What?" Gemini looked between them. "You haven't mentioned her to me, and it's not like I can read your minds."

Realization dawned on them both and Tom let out a chuckle.

_What's funny?_ Harry thought.

_His choice of words…highly ironic,_ Tom thought, _since_ we _read one another's thoughts so easily._

Harry shook his head, holding back a smile he knew Tom knew about. "Sorry about that, Gem. Janet is a muggle woman. After Thomas'—er, your father's wife—well, your mother—died, he found Janet. She looks a lot like her. Your mother, I mean. And he kidnapped her. Janet has been a prisoner of his for years."

Gemini's eyes lightened from their brown until they were a clear-like yellow. "Years?" he asked, incredulous and horrified.

Tom nodded. "Indeed. She was with him for around four years, if I am not mistaken, before he kidnapped her. He likely felt the novelty of her pretending to not be your mother wore off. Of course, she was not pretending."

After a moment of silence, Gemini shook his head, changing his eye color back to bronze. "I would never want to put her back in that position. I've been Thomas's prisoner once, and I know he took it easy on me. I can only imagine…"

"Somehow," Tom said suddenly, "Thomas developed a real affection for your mother. He held such strong feelings for her, and if I understand him correctly, he still does. If he believes he loves Janet, we must press out advantage."

"Press our advantage?" Harry asked, not angry, but tired. He could feel the reluctance in Tom's mind, see the images of Janet's sunken stomach, bruise-colored skin, and skeletal joints. He did not want to entertain the idea any more than they did. "How would we do that? What would that mean for Janet? How would that make her feel? Towards us and towards Thomas."

"Well, one option could be an exchange, of sorts," Tom said softly. "We promise to give him Janet and he promises to stop the destruction. Possibly, we make an unbreakable vow for proof. Except, it's a trap. We give him Janet, and once he calls off the destruction, we kill him and take back Janet."

Harry shook his head. "Too much risk. Even if he agreed, we can't anticipate the measures he would take to protect himself. He could end up alive and with Janet."

"Do we really have time to talk about all these ideas?" Gemini asked. "He's already set someplace fire. There could be more. They're going to spread. He's going to kill people."

"Gemini," Tom replied warily, "we need his weakness according to the prophecy."

"The prophecy said we would _reveal_ his weakness," Gemini pointed out. "Not 'search for' or 'plan around.' Just reveal."

Harry and Tom shared a look.

_That's true enough,_ Tom (or Harry?) thought.

_Yes, Thomas will just back down thinking that we know his weakness is Janet._ Tom (yes, _definitely_ Tom) thought sarcastically.

Harry shook his head. _No, his weakness is Amayra, who Janet happens to look like._

"Am I missing something?" Gemini watched them share looks again. He couldn't count how many times they had done this recently: just looked at each other, changing facial expressions like they were having a conversation. Gemini tried to catch on, but never had the time to decipher them. "You both look at each other making faces and then suddenly the conversation is someplace new."

"We share a mind," Tom said nonchalant, while thinking at Harry, _if we only need to reveal it, maybe Thomas will understand that we hold the upper hand. She could be his emotional crutch._

Harry shook his head with a sigh upon seeing Gemini's confused expression and slate colored eyes. "What he means is that we have a mental connection. It's a long story, but we-"

"Honestly, we do not have the time for lengthy explanations," Tom spoke up, pointing to the quickly approaching patronus headed their way from across the room.

A ghostly white Jack Russel terrier stopped just before them. "The fire is growing faster than we anticipated," Ron's voice stated, "Another has also been set in the highlands close to Hogwarts. The school has enchantments, but not even Padma is sure they will protect against it. According to a couple of the aurors, Thomas is there."

The dog faded to nothingness.

Harry's wand was out in an instant. He sent a reply with their recent thoughts and stood. "Well, we can't sit here and plan all day. If we know where Thomas is, we've got to do something about it."

"What are we to do?" Tom asked. His mind was ready, but anxious. He once again doubted his usefulness when he lacked magic.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but as he looked at Gemini and Tom, he realized neither of them were equipped for this fight. Gemini had a few spells to get him through, well-practiced but ultimately not enough to do anything but protect, deflect, and delay. And Tom…had that letter opener…

"Maybe I ought to go alone," Harry said at last.

Tom scoffed, burying his self-doubt within himself where Harry could not see it. "Harry Potter, I may not be a Gryffindor, but I can manage myself."

Gemini nodded beside him. "Yeah, we're ready. We've trained for this. This is our big moment. We have to all be there together."

Harry glanced at Tom, then Gemini. He supposed they were right. They were a team. This had to be their fight. Even so, he didn't want it to be a battle any of them lost.

"Alright," he said with a sudden smile. "I've got an idea."

At the same time, Tom smiled, in on his plan.

"Oh, Boreas!"

* * *

 

Montgomery shook his head, staring out at the fire that was raging towards them in the distance.

"We should've taken London first," he said, his American accent full with worry. "We 'probly don't even have their attention yet."

Thomas smiled, his gaze instead on the ground far below where they stood on the Astronomy Tower.

"I am more than certain we have their attention."

Montgomery tilted his head in confusion. "How're you so sure? Are we even ready for this? I thought you wanted Amayra back 'fore we took Hogwarts."

Thomas shook his head, his smile fading. He was silent a moment before he looked up and met Montgomery's gaze. "I knew it wasn't her," he said softly. "I knew it seconds after I saw her, but I thought maybe I could _make_ her into the Amayra I wanted her to be." He sighed. "But I should have known better. I suppose it was fun while it lasted."

Montgomery looked over Thomas's expression curiously. In all his time working under him, Thomas had never once hinted that he knew he was living in a lie. Why admit it now? Did he not expect to get her back? Did he think this was it?

"Sir-"

"Please, call me Thomas."

Montgomery's brows furrowed. "With all due respect…Thomas…if you think this is the end, it's not. We can beat them."

Thomas smiled once more as he turned to face Montgomery. "I am aware. We will beat them, and everything they stand for. They will beg for mercy as we claim their world and burn it to the ground…" he took in a deep breath and let it go, "but that does not mean this is not the end. It is the end of something I held onto for far too long."

"Why let go now?"

Thomas took a step forward, closing the space between their bodies—much too close for Montgomery's comfort. He took Montgomery's hands in his own gently.

"I've come to realize that Amayra was a past life," Thomas said softly, his breath ghosting over Montgomery's face, sensual in its intentions, but which instead grew discomfort. "I am living in a new one. One filled with beauty and destruction. In my times of hopelessness, you brought me joy. You listened and provided. I am so sorry I did not see it before. But in that house, I saw it. You stood over Jannine's dying body with that gleam in your eyes, and that is when I knew."

Montgomery stepped back, but Thomas followed to close the space he so desperately craved. He had no feelings beyond professional for this madman. He had seen how he treated his "Amayra." How could he escape this quickly without inducing the same fate for him?

He shook his head. "Sir…Thomas…we have a world to destroy. Is this really the time?"

Thomas sighed and nodded. "You are right. This should wait." He dropped Montgomery's hands and turned. He cleared his throat and walked to the other side of the tower. "Call the others," he called out, his voice returning to its professional nature. "Potter and his crew will be here soon enough."

Montgomery nodded, casting a spell around himself.

Soon enough, men began appearing around them, wands at the ready. For a while, they stood, simply waiting. It did not take long until they saw the tiny figures appear outside the entrance to the school. Thomas watched as they dallied for just a moment before they made their way into the castle. Thomas smiled.

"Boys, they've come for a visit. It's time to catch them by surprise."

* * *

 

Harry, Gemini, and Tom ran through the entrance of Hogwarts, stopping just after the threshold, not sure where to look for Thomas and (no doubt) his band of followers. Hogwarts was a large school. There were plenty of places they could be hiding. But where to start?

Just around their shoulders was a small breeze, barely felt: reassurance that Boreas was with them. Harry stepped forward, glancing about. With quick thinking, he silenced all three pairs of their feet, listening closely for the echo of movement in the abandoned castle.

Harry could barely make out the soft whoosh of air. He was not sure that was a sign of the arrival of the enemy, but he moved towards it, no less. The others followed shortly after him in a brisk walk.

_No doubt their feet as silenced, too_ , Harry thought. _Possibly, their bodies are hidden as well. Do you suppose they would go for a surprise attack?_

_They might, in order to get the upper hand,_ Tom thought.

Harry nodded, casting quick disillusionment charms over Gemini, Tom, and then himself. The familiar cold feeling took over his features.

"To avoid confusion about one another's whereabouts," Harry whispered, "we need to hold hands."

Mostly, this was for Gemini's safety, since he and Tom instantly locked hands, knowing where the other was due to their mind-link. Tom held out a hand behind his at the height he expected Gemini's to be out, feeling around for a bit until he finally caught hold of the tiny, clammy palm.

"I've got you, Gemini," Tom said softly. He wasn't sure if he meant it as a fact or as reassurance, but he meant it, nonetheless. "Do you have your wand in your other hand?"

"Yes," Gemini squeaked behind him.

Tom could not see his eyes, but he was sure they held the same confusion of yellow, brown, and orange to them. He was doing his best, but none of them could deny that this would be his first encounter of this nature. It made them all nervous.

"Alright," Harry whispered, stepping forward cautiously, keeping a pace slow enough for Gemini to follow behind Tom without stumbling.

Harry listened once more as they walked into the main corridor. He could not hear the wind he had heard before, but he continued in the direction it came from: over to the left, headed towards the center of the school.

They walked into the courtyard, quiet and almost peaceful with its greenery. Harry slowed to a stop and glanced about. He saw nothing. He shut his eyes and listened, willing his hearing to be the focus of his senses. He heard nothing, though he continued to stand and listen.

Behind him, Tom and Gemini's hearts pounded in their chests. While Harry Potter was at ease with this sort of experience, they felt themselves lacking. Neither had ever been in a situation where, at any moment, a battle would erupt from nothing. It left them on edge, and their hands, open but woven together with fingers, were covered in cold sweat.

After a long moment, Harry heard it: a clamoring of metal, voices rising in the distance.

Wasting no time, he turned and headed towards the Astronomy Tower, not too far from where they were currently.

They reached the base within the minute, and they could all hear the commotion.

"John! I thought you said we were going left!" some part of the air seemed to shout.

"I'm not John! I'm Stanley!" another voice yelled from nowhere.

"Oh," the first voice said, easing his tone. "I'm supposed to be with John."

"I'm supposed to be with Bruce," Stanley said. "He said he was going left, too."

" _Bugger_ ," the first voice said. "They must've gone off together without us."

"Must've," Stanley's voice suddenly whispered. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," the first voice whispered. "Just bumped my arse on tin man, here, after we fell."

Sure enough, a suit of armor laid in pieces on the ground.

"Look, let's just head off to the right together. No chance of catching our partners now."

"Right, then."

In moments, the voices fell silent, as did the space. Harry rose his wand.

_Homemum Revelio_ , Harry thought, casting a wordless spell. He and Tom watched as the spell did its work, showing where exactly the men stood.

"What the-" one began.

_Petrificus Totalus_ , Harry thought again. In an instant, there was one thud, then another as the men fell to the floor. Upon hitting the floor, their disillusionment charms faded.

Without hesitation, Harry released Tom's hand and picked up a small piece of the suit of the armor on the floor—the visor—and turned it into a portkey. He removed the wands from the men, pocketing them, and pried their hands onto the portkey. In moments, the portkey whisked them away to Tom's house. He sent off a quick two patronuses to Ron and Draco, letting them know of the situation. Ron would be able to get the men into custody at whatever new prison The Order were keeping the prisoners in now, and Draco would be able to get into Tom's house. Harry nodded, though no one could see him. He had covered his bases.

He rejoined hands with Tom and went to the left, where the men's partners had gone off to.

They walked down most of the hallway before Harry suddenly stilled. Behind him, Tom stilled, too, but Gemini bumped into Tom. While he did not fall over, as the earlier men had, it still made a noise.

"Did you hear that, Stanley?" a voice whispered down the hall.

"Stanley?" the other asked. "I'm John."

The other man—must be Bruce—let out a huff. "Well, _John_ , did you hear it?"

"Hear what?" John asked.

For a moment, there was no sound.

"Where are you going? The sound came from this way," Bruce whispered, hardly audible.

They were headed towards them, which had not given them the advantage they had with the men previous.

Harry had to think fast. He recalled a moment from his past: second year, in the Chamber of Secrets, fighting the Basilisk.

He cast a quick wandless spell just around the men that neared them, scratching the floors just barely and hitting the wall of the next hall with a soft thud.

"They got around us," the voice whispered again. It was so close, Harry felt the air move as the men turned and headed towards the noise. The hairs on the back of his neck pricked up, but he did not let it cloud his judgement.

_Petrificus Totalus_ , Harry thought once more, simply casting the spell before him, knowing the men were there.

With another thud, they fell together, the disillusionment charm fading from them as it had with the ones before. Upon being revealed, Harry noticed that the men were holding hands: the same precaution Harry, Gemini, and Tom had taken, and which their partners had not.

Harry summoned a quill—something he had been so used to summoning, it was second nature—and did a spell to turn it into a portkey. He shoved the tip between the fingers of the frozen men, and they too vanished.

From here, Harry was not sure not to proceed.

_The Astronomy Tower,_ Tom thought. _It is likely where they originated. Thomas must be waiting there._

_Were there only four men?_ Harry thought. _Surely not. Where are the rest of them?_

Tom's mind gave him a feeling similar to a shrug. _It is possible they are waiting with him. Or they simply moved faster from their place of origination that those four._

While Harry did not much like the idea of facing Thomas when he could call back his henchmen to far outnumber them, he disliked the idea of aimlessly wondering the castle in search of them more. It would waste time they did not have. They needed to end this now.

Harry turned and led the others back to the Astronomy Tower. At the stairs, he began to climb, hoping Gemini could match their pace without stumbling. It was a high tower—the highest in the school—but there were no doors or obstructions to muffle any sounds that came from them. He wanted to ensure that Thomas had no idea they were coming.

"Sir, I don't understand…" a distant voice sounded. Harry felt that maybe he had heard it before, but could not tell for sure, especially with the odd accent it donned.

Harry listened, but did not slow his pace.

" _Honestly_ ," the voice sounded casual, but had just a hint of fear in it. "We've got more important things. Potter and your son-"

A clear, haughty laugh rang out around them: it was obviously Thomas.

"He is not my son. His mother had many times to be unfaithful to me. He could be anyone's son."

"Thomas," the voice replied, "I thought you said he had your eyes."

There was a moment of silence, and Harry slowed to a stop as they neared the top of the steps.

"I suppose he does," Thomas conceded. "But that does not make him mine."

There was a movement of feet above them, a moment of silence, and then more movement.

"Look, I can't do this," the other man said.

"Montgomery," Thomas said, voice full of something Harry couldn't place. If he hadn't known any better, he'd have said it was affection. But surely it wasn't… "Amayra is in the past, as is that grubby poser. I've realized how similar we are, how lost I am without you."

"No," Montgomery said, and there was more movement above Harry. " _Hell_ no. I-I…I'm not ready. I just had my heart broken by Jannine…" the voice pleaded.

"And Jannine is _gone_ ," Thomas said cheerfully. "I understand she will take some getting over, but I can help you get past her."

"No. I… You're missin' the message, Thomas. I'm not interested."

Harry released Tom's hand and climbed a couple more steps, just enough to peer over the floor boards and see Thomas backing Montgomery into a corner.

From the profile view Harry had, he could see Thomas' mouth hike up into a smile.

"Then I'll _make_ you interested."

At that, anger flew into Harry's mind. He stomped up the few stairs left. " _Expelliarmus_!"

Almost without moving from his position, Thomas' wand was up, blocking the spell with ease. Slowly, he turned his head.

"Well, well, well," He took a step away from Montgomery towards Harry's direction. "I can hear you Harry Potter, but I can't see you." His eyes—one brown, one blue—skimmed the room. "Shall we play a game of Hide and Seek? Or are you going to play nice?"

After a moment, when Harry did not reveal himself, Thomas simply chuckled.

"I'm sure I can always coax out the others you've brought along to play. You want me to have some fun with old Ronny again? Or maybe you even brought your wife!" He took another step to Harry's right. "How _delicious_ would that be?"

Thomas continued to move, and Harry moved too, away from the stairs and further towards Montgomery, an epiphany on his mind.

"How many did you bring, Harry?" Thomas shouted suddenly, a new excitement to his tone. "Is my son here? Oh, how I'd like to show him what his father is _really_ made of."

Red hot anger boiled in Harry's throat. He would never touch a hair on Gemini's throat if he could help it.

Suddenly, panic filled Tom's mind. The sensation of Gemini's hand was gone. He felt around for the boy, but could not find him.

Harry's breathing hitched. Surely Gemini had gone back down the stairs, not wanting to hear Thomas say these things. Was he safe there?

Thomas took a step, this time towards Harry, and then another. "Oh Harry, are you quite alright? Have I distressed you?"

Damn his breathing. It was giving him away. Harry pulled back towards the stairs.

"If it bothers you so much, why bring him?" Thomas' eyes seemed to lock on to Harry's general area.

Across the room, there was a soft thud.

"Ooh," Thomas turned immediately. "Thought you could slip past me, Harry? Ah, but I can hear you."

Instead of feeling relieved, Harry's heart beat faster. That sound had to be Gemini.

"Boreas," Tom whispered softly, "lead him away from Gemini."

At the whispered words, Thomas turned around again. "Is someone here with you, Harry? Well that's not quite fair, now is it?"

Suddenly, Thomas looked around him in confusion. Small sounds echoed around him.

"How many of you are there up here?" Thomas lifted his wand hand with poised shoulders, ready to cast a spell, but the winds batted it away.

It rolled to the far end of the room before it floated in the air a few feet then disappeared.

"Hmm," Thomas said, relaxing his body and letting a large, toothy smile growing on his face after watching the exchange. "Based on the height of that grab, which I assume you did with your hands, I'd say you were rather short." He took a step closer. "Perhaps, a small eleven-year-old boy with mousy blond hair who is quite small for his age."

Instantly, the winds began to spiral around him, holding him in place.

Harry made his way over to Montgomery.

"Montgomery," he whispered, "he's going to torture you. Use you. We can keep you safe."

Montgomery scoffed. "Keep me safe," he grumbled. "I don't want to be safe. I want revenge."

Harry was only quiet a moment before catching on. "That can work, too. There are only three of us here. Can you handle Thomas' men? We just need them out of here."

Montgomery nodded, a wicked grin flashing over his lips. "I can do that."

Without hesitation, Montgomery hid himself with a disillusionment charm and disappeared. Harry felt the breeze pull by him as he passed, and Tom felt it as he went down the steps.

"Enough!" Thomas yelled. A burst of magic erupted from his body and the winds came to a sputtering halt, hitting the ground and throwing sparks around the floor before stopping completely. His face seemed to grow in age a few years.

_Boreas?_ Tom thought quietly, fearing the worst.

" _Accio wand"_ Thomas called, in an instant, his wand was back in his hand. " _Homenum Revelio_!"

In an instant, Harry could feel something swoop low over him, marking his presence, Gemini's presence, and even Tom's presence.

"AH, I've found you all." Thomas pointed his wand at Gemini.

Harry released his disillusionment charm faster than he ever had before, rushing the fade. Anger boiled over in his mind, clouding out thoughts of Parseltongue magic from Tom's mind. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Thomas' wand flew from his grip. He sighed and turned.

"Oh, Harry. How lovely to finally see you. I've been waiting quite a while."

For a moment, Thomas smiled, taking in Harry's fury. For a second, his eyes flicked to where Montgomery had been standing before falling back to Harry. His smile faltered, noticing the absence of his companion.

"What have you done with Montgomery?"

"Nothing," Harry said frankly, his tone biting and dark. "He did it of his own volition."

For a moment, Thomas' brows furrowed. Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw something. He turned to look, and they all saw it.

In the sky was the Death Eater symbol, sickly and faded green in the haziness of the smoke clouds just beginning to reach them. Thomas stepped towards the edge of the room and looked to the ground above where the mark hung.

Bodies dressed in black: his henchmen. They were piled haphazardly on top of one another, another smiling figure in black standing on top of them.

"Go to Hell!" Montgomery yelled from below.

_That was quick,_ Harry thought. He could not see Thomas' expression, but he noticed the tensing of his body under his clothes. He gripped the banister hard until his knuckles turned white.

"Is there no love in this world," he asked through his teeth in a growl. "Am I not allowed to be happy?"

"Happy?" Tom spoke up suddenly. "Never. Do you realize what terrors you perform on people for the sake of fun? Do you realize what you do to your own men for the sake of satisfaction?"

Thomas chuckled darkly. "Am I too much fun for you, Tommy?"

"You are too much mess," Tom replied. "Too much chaos. Too much violence. That is the reason Amayra left you. She would have rather watched herself die than be with you any longer. Because you do not love, Thomas. You _cannot_ love while you are a monster."

Thomas turned, tears streaming down his smile-plastered face. He was looking for Tom's face, but only found Harry's. "That's rich coming from the former Dark Lord."

"I am no longer a monster," Tom said, moving closer to Thomas. "And I have learned love."

Thomas laughed. In seconds, his fingers shot out at Gemini and Harry. " _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

Harry was frozen in place. As the spell took effect, there was a thud, and suddenly the disillusionment spell on Gemini wore off, too, revealing him tousled on the floor, fear evident in his bright yellow eyes and pale blond hair. Harry cursed himself, thinking for sure that all three of them were stuck, helpless and at Thomas' mercy. Why hadn't he used the Parseltongue magic while he had the chance?

"Ah! My Boy! There you are. I've been looking for you," Thomas said cheerfully. Tears still flowed down his face, only adding to the insanity of his much-too-large grin. "You ready for Harry to watch you suffer? He'll feel pain just like I felt watching your mother choose you over me."

Harry watched Thomas stalk towards Gemini like a predator to prey, feeling helpless and angry. He wanted to do something. _I have a plan. But…_ Harry paused and shuffled through his thoughts. Was that his thought? He suddenly realized the absence of Tom's mind where it ought to be connected with his.

Without warning a letter opener appeared in midair, stabbing itself right into Thomas' throat. Thomas gasped in shock, one hand flying to his neck, and the other grabbing the invisible arm. He stumbled backward, catching himself on the banister around the edge of the room. He struggled for a moment against some strength none of them could see. Blood flowed down from the letter opener and onto invisible fingers which held it there, just barely showing the presence of a hand.

Watching, Harry could not tell who was winning. He desperately wanted to connect with Tom's mind, to help him through this, and to be sure of where he was in this fight. Thomas moved around this way and that, but Harry was never sure where Tom stood. Was he still in Thomas' grasp, or was he turning Thomas around to face the edge?

Thomas' body moved suddenly, eyes wild and wide. The momentum sent him towards the edge, his high hips tipping over the banister, shifting his weight over it. With a bloody choke, Thomas clenched his fists in front of him. For a moment, his falling slowed, and then, he fell from view.

Harry's heart raced as Tom's mind opened back up to him. The wind whipped past his ears in a frenzy and he could see the sky above him, darkening with grey smoke from the fire in the distance. And then, he saw the greenness of the grass coming towards him in a rush. His heart hurt in his chest as he realized his fate, and his stomach turned icy in its weightlessness. He left for Harry one final thought before he felt the ground meet his body hard, crushing his bones into himself and stopping his heart in his chest almost instantly.

_I love you_.

Thomas' spell wore off and Harry fell to his knees where he once stood. He had felt it. All of it. Surely it hadn't been real. Could Tom make it up? He glanced about the room, half expecting him to fade back into view. He didn't want to go to the edge and look over. He told himself it couldn't be true, but looking was the proof. He didn't want that. He wanted it to all be a lie.

He watched as Gemini ran to look, eyes a clear, icy blue.

The breeze picked up around them, beginning to swirl with small droplets of water. As one fell on Harry's face, it hurt his skin with its coldness. He felt the wind pick up speed and watched as the water droplets crystalized into small beads of ice.

Gemini shook with a repressed sob, yelling as loud as his lungs allowed.

" _TOM_!"


	34. The Broken Horcrux

It had been hours, but still Harry stared at Tom's damaged body lying on the floor of the library. He sat with his legs pulled into his chest, his arms holding them close, his chin resting on his knees. He'd sat like this, unmoving, trying to think of a way that this would be okay.

Beside him, Gemini sat cross-legged, elbows in the crooks of his knees and his chin in his hands. The tears had long left his eyes, but the deep navy color had not once changed.

When the others had arrived at the tower, they cheerfully announced that the fires were put out. Harry hardly could remember it all, as he had simply watched Tom's body thinking, _we're going to fix this. We can fix this_.

He eventually felt the chill of Gemini's storm recede as Mrs. Weasley, Lily, Albus, and James comforted him.

For once, Harry selfishly disregarded what the others were saying and doing, and just numbly watched Tom's body, as if he stared long enough, it would have moved again. Before he knew it, someone had taken him and Tom back to the library. Moments later, Gemini joined him.

And here they were. Harry had replayed the happenings over and over in his head, from the fight with Thomas to the moment they began to sit here, unmoving. Why hadn't he just used the Parseltongue magic? That had been the plan all along. But he'd let Thomas get him angry enough to keep him from thinking, to have him focus on his reflexes and habits, not careful planning.

He realized that no matter how many times he replayed it, he could not change what he felt. He had felt Tom die. He had felt what Tom felt just before crashing into the ground form the tallest tower in Hogwarts. He knew what Dumbledore felt just as he died, and now he knew what Tom felt, too.

Harry blinked then, his eyes painfully dry and sore. He'd been in a trance, but he didn't need to be. He could fix this. Tom had a horcrux. It was all alright.

Harry looked to Gemini. This was all real to him. He thought Tom was really dead.

But he wasn't.

Harry stood at last. His knees and arms ached from the position they had held for so long, but he turned nonetheless to the bookshelves. Which isle had Tom gone down when they made the horcrux?

"What are you doing?" Gemini asked, voice still rough from his earlier yelling.

"He's not dead," Harry said quietly. "He has a horcrux inside me. I just have to figure out how to use it to bring him back." His feet carried him to the third isle, protesting all the way. He was sure it was somewhere near the fourth shelf, near the top.

"Horcrux?" Gemini asked after catching up to him. "Like the kind he had before?"

"Like it," Harry said numbly, "yes. But it's new. It's half of his soul, not a small portion like the other ones he had." His fingers skimmed over books as his eyes read their titles quickly.

"So, he's not really dead, then?" Gemini's eyes lightened.

Harry nodded. "Yes, but I have to figure out how to use it."

"He's not dead!" Gemini said as cheerfully as he could manage with a raspy throat.

"He is," Harry said, "just not permanently." _No no no no_ , he thought. _These aren't the books at all._

He went to the next shelf to the right, scanning the books for the title he hardly remembered.

"Maybe it was the next isle," he mumbled to himself as he walked on to the fourth isle.

"What book are you looking for? Maybe I could help you find it." Gemini seemed to bounce by his side.

"Something about…paranormal, I think?" Harry sighed. "He used it to look up how our first connection worked. It has to have the something on bringing him back."

Gemini bit his lip. "Too bad we don't have Boreas."

Harry zipped from that shelf to the next. "It has to be here," he mumbled, scanning over the spines of the books. There wasn't even anything remotely close to a book on soul magic or connections. It was all history. He didn't need history, he needed how-to.

Harry scampered to the next isle, panic filling him. What if he couldn't find the book? He had to. It was Tom's only hope. And he had to save Tom.

Harry stopped for a moment and looked into his mind. It was empty where once Tom's mind had been, feeling almost like he was missing a part of himself. He thought that, if a part of Tom's soul were inside him, he'd feel it. But he didn't. Why didn't he?

"It doesn't make sense," Harry mumbled, running to the next isle.

"What doesn't make sense?" Gemini asked, worry in his voice.

"I'm supposed to feel him in my mind," Harry moved on to the next shelf, looking over books on ancient ruins. "The horcrux gave us a connection. I could feel the connection we had even after pieces of him died last time. Why don't I feel anything this time?"

Harry ran to the next isle, Gemini behind him trying to catch up.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't have magic this time," he offered quietly, unsure.

_What the bloody hell was that book called?_ Harry pressed the palms of his hands to his head, frustrated. He could remember commenting to Tom how long the title had been, right? That was this book, and not the other one? What had Tom said to that?

He could remember standing next to Tom, confused and curious, looking at those brown eyes of his. He had seen him be human earlier that day, but he was being rather vexing at the time. Harry could almost see him flipping the pages of the book, explaining why Harry could not remember how to speak Parseltongue.

" _As I recall,"_ he had said then, _"you could only speak Parseltongue because I spoke it…I, on the other hand, diligently learned and spoke it for most of my life. For this reason, I can still speak it."_

Harry's heart fluttered a little at the memory. It made him realize how much he missed Tom. He had never felt so connected to anyone in his whole life, even his best friends. There was a part of Tom he understood that no one else did, and there was a part of Harry that Tom understood, as well. Without him, was there no one who really _knew_ Harry? Without Tom…

Harry shook his head. He couldn't start worrying about that now. He had to figure out how to bring Tom back.

He went back to where he started. If it had been his first instinct, surely it had been correct. The world felt too slow as he scanned over the titles once more. Why couldn't he read faster? Why couldn't his brain understand the words quicker?

He gripped his fingers into tight fists by his side. He just needed this _goddamned_ book. _One book_. That was what kept Tom away from him. If he could just _concentrate_!

"Mr. Potter?"

At the sound of Gemini's voice, Harry nearly released the fury he realized was gathering in the back of his head. It raged, turning his face a bit pink, his knuckles white, and his brain a bit tingly. Still, he managed to keep it caged.

"I'm sorry, Gemini." Forcibly, Harry released his fists, stretching his fingers to their full length for just a moment before relaxing them. In slow trickles, the blood returned to them, and he watched as their paleness became peachy once more. "I need to calm down."

He met Gemini's eyes—one tan, one a yellow-orange, like amber—and felt the anger drain from his body. He was relieved that Gemini had that power over him (whether or not Gemini knew it). Harry had once been so filled with rage and frustration with the world. He thought that it had ruined his life, once. Maybe, he realized, the reason it tore that life apart was because it was paper thin—one he convinced himself he wanted but really didn't. Now, he knew what he wanted.

"I'm just…" Harry began, but he stopped himself. He was going to say angry, but he didn't feel angry anymore. His insides quivered as if they were cold, and a pressure built up behind his eyes. "I love him, Gemini," he whispered.

Gemini simply nodded, staying quiet. With some uncertainty, he put a small hand on Harry's arm, for reassurance. Though Harry was more than sure Gemini had never done this before, a fraction of a smile creeped onto his face as the thought crossed his mind that Gemini cared.

They simply stayed like that for a while, lost in their thoughts. It was not until Gemini whispered something that Harry even realized he had zoned out.

"I love him, too," Gemini barely said. "He promised me…freedom. A real home."

Harry nodded. "He meant it, too," Harry replied, slightly louder. "He's going to adopt you. We talked about it. I'm not even sure he recognizes how much he cares for you, but I felt it: understanding, concern, admiration, pride." Harry took in a long breath, looking back at his hands absently. After a moment, he began to speak again. "You are right where he was, and he wants to offer you what he couldn't have. Not just a home and freedom, but a real family. Someone who listens and wants what is best for you."

When he looked up, Gemini's eyes were a bright clash of blue and purple as tears welled up in his eyes. "That's all I've ever wanted," he whispered.

As Harry watched him wipe at his eyes, he realized how small he was, how young he was. Maybe it was the intelligent gleam in his eyes that made Harry mistake him for an older version of the boy, but now, it was obvious that he was only eleven. Gemini was an eleven-year-old who had never been properly loved and cared for in his life. A child who was born of a loving mother and a father filled with hatred. Harry wondered just how many children could fit under that category. Not many, he hoped.

Harry suddenly felt an ache in his chest. Was he going to cry, too? He sniffled a bit as the pressure behind his eyes began to build more. Yes, he was going to cry. Well, _damn it_.

He wrapped his arms around Gemini and pulled him into a hug as tears fell down his own cheeks. Tom meant so much to them both and he was gone. They were going to bring him back, but, he supposed, they were going to grieve first. Harry was never much for grief, but he knew it well. Too well. He never liked the way it felt tearing at his heart, looming in his mind. But here, hugging Gemini, it felt right, somehow. This was how he was supposed to feel, and it felt good to finally let himself feel it.

Once Harry's tears slowed, he let go of Gemini and wiped away the wetness on his face. He felt better, then. There was no frustration biting at the back of his messy brunet head. He could focus on figuring out their problem with logic and reasoning. He did not need his Gryffindor tendencies to cloud that.

"Alright, then," Harry said for some unknown reason, walking out of the isle of books and back to the clearing of the library where Tom's body still laid. "We need to find that book."

Without thinking, Harry pulled out his wand. "Well, I need to do some research, Gemini. Would you like to come with me?"

He glanced back and saw Gemini shortly behind him, wiping at his eyes and nodding. Harry stopped to let him catch up.

"Let's see if I remember how to find that pensieve in the Headmaster's office," he said more to himself than to Gemini. Without hesitation, he gripped Gemini's shoulder and disapperated.

* * *

 

James, Albus, and Lily still sat at the Weasley dinner table, even though their plates were cleared a while ago. Their mother and grandmother had left shortly after dinner to aid the others with the Ministry dealings. The news had come out the day before in _The Daily Prophet_ that things were still quite rocky over there, even if Umbridge had been found dead in the basement of her hideout. Of course, no one was more ready to help than the Weasley family. Ginny left James in charge, invisibility cloak in his hand at all times, ready to hide himself and his siblings, in case the war was not quite as over as everyone hoped it was. They had sat for maybe an hour, now, wondering what their family was up to, and if it was dangerous. They hoped not, though they knew well enough that it likely was.

Suddenly, there was a ruffling sound from just outside, only audible only because of their absolute silence. There was a tap on the door.

James sighed. He knew that tap sound was familiar—the beak of an owl, since all the windows they usually came through were locked and warded—but he knew he would never forgive himself if he was wrong. He tossed the invisibility cloak over his siblings, making sure it didn't drape over the chair, awkwardly making some of it invisible.

The tapping at the door came again, but louder.

"Yes, yes," James said, pulling a coin from his pocket with the hand that wasn't holding his wand at the ready. "On my way."

He walked to the door then opened it, finding the same delivery owl from yesterday with a newspaper rolled up just before it. It hooted softly and held out the coin pouch tied to its leg.

He crouched down and placed the coin into the pouch. Before he even got the pouch fully closed once more, the owl took off. Startled, he nearly fell backward. With annoyance, he watched as the owl flew over the field.

He picked up the paper and shut the door once more.

At the table, Lily and Albus pulled the cloak off themselves, fixing their hair and clothes from where it had moved them.

"What's the big news today?" Albus asked, more bored than curious. " _Thomas Dead, War Over_?"

"No," Lily replied, "It'd be something like, _Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived, Has Done it Once Again_."

James unrolled the newspaper, clicking his tongue behind his teeth.

"You're both wrong," James answered, " _Unlikely Trio, Led by Harry Potter, End War As Soon As It Starts_."

"We were close," Albus said. "It's not like it's hard to guess."

They had heard the main portions of the story earlier, almost as soon as it happened. They highly doubted _The Prophet_ had much, if anything, new to tell them.

" _This afternoon,_ " James began to read, " _Thomas Gamp and henchmen met the prophesized trio at the top of Hogwarts Astronomy Tower in a battle that resulted in the death of…_ " James' brows furrowed, " _two men many believed to be dead over two decades ago._ "

James looked up and met the uncertain eyes of his siblings.

"Two?" Lily asked, surprise apparent in her tone.

James eyes went back to the paper, continuing to read with a renewed desire to know. " _Members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived on the scene in the aftermath only to discover the right-hand man to the psychopath himself aided in the downfall (literally). The trio—from the prophecy recited by Sybil Trewlawney which was covered in an earlier edition of this newspaper— seems to be composed of Harry Potter, the one and only Boy-Who-Lived; Gemini Swalton, a first year student at Hogwarts and son to Gamp (see page 3 for his full story)…_ "

"Gemini has his own story?" Albus interrupted curiously. James eyes bugged, ignoring the comment as he continued.

"… _and muggle Tom Marvolo Riddle, formerly known as Voldemort—yes,_ the _Dark Lord._ "

Lily and Albus gasped. With a rising panic, James continued reading faster.

" _A close friend of Harry Potter and his gang who wishes to remain anonymous—we'll call him Dave—explained that Gamp, originally working for Voldemort, brought Riddle back from the dead, lacking his magical abilities. Without his magic, Gamp nearly murdered Riddle on the spot, were it not for Harry Potter saving his life at last second. Riddle, who knew Gamp in his childhood, provided vital information to aid Harry Potter in this tug-of-war between good and evil._ "

James paused. Had he read all that in one breath? He noticed his lungs felt tight.

Albus let out a relieved sigh. "Tom. That's who that man was with Dad. Tom Riddle. And he's not evil."

Lily scoffed. "No, but he's a prat. You know what he said to Gemini about his father."

James nodded. He tried to get passed the immediate thoughts that cropped up about his father being in danger and continued to read the story.

" _This morning, before the battle took place, Gamp and Montgomery Ray Summers, the aforementioned right-hand man, set fire to Leckwith, Whales, and much of the Scottish Highlands near Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The two had planned to face the Trio and, upon victory, continue to set fire to Britain. However, Harry Potter and his companions managed to sway Summers to betray his master—the weakness stated in the prophecy. Although the Trio arrived to the battle outnumbered, Summers seemed to level the playing field, incapacitating Gamp's henchmen before they could overtake them. Potter, Riddle, and the boy faced off with Gamp. In the skirmish, while Potter and the boy were at the mercy of the villain, it was Riddle who fought Gamp in hand-to-hand combat with only a letter opener. The fight led both of them to the edge of the tower, where they tipped over the railing and fell to their death. Dave was all-too correct in stating, 'It's ironic that the man who was brought back to life by Thomas, the reason for his evil in the first place, would also be the one to bring both Thomas and himself to death. They both got what they deserved.'"_

James stopped a moment, just to think. Gemini had been there, they knew that. Gemini had seen it all. He wondered just how Gemini felt about watching his father and the villain he used to work for plunge to their deaths.

"Keep reading," Albus said quietly, his eyes not on his brother, but at the nothingness before him. James was not the only one thinking intently.

James nodded and continued.

" _As for the fires, the aurors, now fully recovered from their earlier injuries, were quick to combat and contain them before they spread even further. The damage done was mostly to secluded areas and forests. Environmental Wizards claim the forests will require frequent attention, as it will need plenty of magical care in order to regrow. Only two Leckwith wizards were caught in the fires, although investigations on their corpses are still underway by medi-wizards as to if the fires were the cause of death. Summers, the last remaining follower of Gamp, was taken into custody by the aurors to await a trial once the Ministry is back in order. Head Auror Ronald Weasley commented that Summers was 'more than likely to receive a light sentence to Azkaban, if not community service. Considering his vital role in the whole thing, it doesn't seem right to treat him like a full criminal.' The details on his exact crimes are not yet defined. Once the Ministry is back in order, Harry Potter and Riddle are likely to be awarded for their brave efforts and valiant sacrifice. More news to come as soon as it is available."_

The Potter children were quiet as the words sunk in. That was most certainly not the story they had heard from their mother. Why hadn't she told them Tom was involved in it? That he was the final part of the prophecy that they were missing? Gemini was the Boy with the power of the Wind, and Thomas was the boy's father, their father was one of the Pair, and …and Tom was the other half. If the newspaper knew that, surely their mother knew it. And if their mother knew it, why hadn't she told them?

"I wonder who the friend was," Lily said softly, not wanting to rupture the silence.

Albus shook his head. "It's no one in the Order. They've been too busy to recount the whole story to the reporters."

"The aurors obviously don't mind being cited," James added. "Uncle Ron let them quote him. And he only gave a bit, not the whole story. They've been busy, too."

"One of the professors, maybe?" Lily pondered aloud. "One that isn't in the Order?"

"I thought they were protecting students, still," Albus furrowed his brows.

"Yeah," James agreed. "They came to the house before Gemini got back. They checked in and left. Only the ones in the Order stayed after that, but…" he met his brother's eyes, "I don't know who else that leaves."

"What other people does Dad know?" Lily asked more to the room than her siblings. "The Order, the aurors, the professors. That's his whole life."

James sighed. Lily was right. All the knowledgeable people their father knew were in one or more of those groups. Who else could know so much about Tom?

James scanned over the article once more, picking up bits and pieces of information "Dave" knew that might reveal who he was. He knew about Tom being Tom Riddle. He knew that Tom knew Thomas in his childhood, and that Tom was responsible for Thomas coming back up. They knew what happened at the battle, not necessarily like they heard about the events from someone; the story was a bit more detailed than that.

"Mom and the Order got all the details from Gemini," Albus said, talking to himself. "Dad wouldn't talk to them about it. It couldn't have been Dad. And Gemini went with him, so it wasn't him, either."

James nodded, but didn't feel any closer to the answer. Just as his theories were becoming the sole focus of his mind, a distant crack outside caught his attention.

"Well-" Lily began before James hushed her.

That was the sound of apparition. Someone was here. He listened, waiting for the special phrase that would have signified his family had landed—a yelled "Mischief Managed"—but it never came. James' heart stopped.

He quickly pulled the cloak off Albus' lap and tossed it over his siblings, moving the fabric around once more so it didn't cover the chair any. When he finished, his shaking hand grabbed his wand back from his pocket and held it at the ready. _This is real_ , he thought. _Someone is here for us._

Soft creaks sounded on the steps outside the front door and James steeled himself. He would have to fight someone. He could do that. He'd practiced dueling. He was good at offense and speed, but his professors told him his defense needed some work. He took that to mean he should use offense twice as often, but in this moment, he wondered, if maybe defense was a good thing to learn.

There was a knock at the door, casual sounding. James took a deep breath and walked forward, his wand poised before him. His heart pounded in his chest. Was he ready for this? He supposed it didn't matter. He would do everything and anything to protect his brother and sister.

"Who's there?" He shouted at the door once he was a few feet from it. He didn't dare lower his wand. He wondered if the person behind the door would blow it up to get inside. It seemed likely.

"It's Draco Malfoy," said the voice behind the door. "I was hoping your mother was home. Hopefully not your aunt."

James stance lowered a bit. Malfoy? As in Scorpius Malfoy's father? What the bloody hell did _he_ want?

"She's not here," James answered. "It's just me."

He could hear Draco sigh. "You're the oldest, I assume? I understand that you're to protect the house and all, but do you think I'd know how to apparate here if I wasn't at least somewhat trusted? I mean no harm. I have news."

James brows furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down. "We got the _Prophet_. We have our news."

"Yes, well, I know for a fact that it didn't cover the whole story," Draco replied, "since I didn't tell it all. Please, let your adult supervisor know that I am here. There's more important things than Thomas's death."

James let his arm fall to his side. It was _him_. _He_ was "Dave" from the papers.

Without further hesitation, he crossed the remaining distance to the door and opened it, revealing a lean man with perfectly groomed platinum blond hair and billowing black robes. He wore a forced smile.

"Thank you, kindly," he said as he stepped in. Draco looked around taking in the fact that the house was empty. "You really are alone."

James closed and locked the door behind him just as Lily and Albus tossed the invisibility cloak off their heads.

"Oh. Even better. You're babysitting," he said dully. "Where are the adults?"

"The Ministry," Albus answered. "Sorting things out over there. They'll likely be busy for a while longer."

Draco let out a small huff. "I can't very well go there," he said quietly.

"Why not?" Lily asked, her eyes narrowed. She didn't like this man's attitude.

"As much as I would enjoy playing the question game," Draco took a step backwards, his expression bored, "I really must be going."

Just as he turned around to head out the door, James stepped in front of it, smiling rebelliously.

"You're not going anywhere, Mr. Malfoy," he said. "Actually, you are going to stay here for a while and answer our questions."

Draco gave a dull chuckle. "And you're going to enforce that, are you? I don't want to hurt you, _child_ , but I can guarantee that I'm more than skilled enough to get by you."

Unfazed, James replied, "I am the oldest son of Harry James Potter. If you think that I will be daunted by a bit of threatening, you are _very_ wrong. And maybe you are more skilled than I am…" James smiled more as Lily and Albus rose, wands in hand, and surrounded Malfoy. "…but we outnumber you."

"And any harm you do to us comes at a cost," Albus added. "Why would you do anything against Harry Potter's children after he just saved the world again? It would almost be as if you were really working for Thomas the whole time."

Draco's grey eyes narrowed. He was silent a moment, considering his situation, but spoke again.

"Fine," he conceded. "I'll tell you, and you will relay the message to your mother."

James lowered his wand and let his smile fall into a smug grin. "Glad you could see it our way."

Albus and Lily lowered their wands as well. Lily gestured at the couch.

Although Draco crinkled his nose at it, he took the invitation to walk over to it and sit down. The children sat in the chairs around it.

"Alright," Draco began. "I'm sure you won't like this, so listen at your own risk." He took in a breath and continued. "As you are aware, Thomas revived Tom Riddle, intending to bring back the era of Voldemort. Everyone knows that now. But hardly anyone knows how."

Draco paused a moment, eyes scanning over James. "It was all an elaborate plan. Thomas' men took over the Ministry first, discreetly. Likely using the Imperious curse, but I can't prove that. Regardless, at the same time, he had one of his men draw the attention of the aurors, back when your father was Head Auror. The man killed an auror using your father's wand and confounded the aurors. Then, the Ministry representatives ensured Harry Potter was fired from his job, never to return. Once he was gone, Dolores Umbridge took over the Ministry, brainwashing or incapacitating the remaining members of the Ministry who were not part of the plan."

James looked over Draco, then. Although his posture and clothing seemed to scream proud and pompous, his face gave away little bits of fear. His blue-grey eyes were wider than they had been earlier, and his pale skin was just the slightest bit more yellow. _Why?_ James thought.

"After that, your mother was manipulated. The divorce was unanticipated, but Thomas hoped your father would separate himself from her. Then, all it took was the _smallest_ piece of legilimency to get him to think about magical portraits. Thomas disguised himself as a portrait painter and painted Tom Riddle for him. The idea was to discredit him further by making it look like Harry alone brought back The Dark Lord. Your father kept it, and Tom was able to convince him to try and make him human. There was a book in Tom's house with the spell. Your father and I went in and got it, then Harry took it to Tom. In turn, Tom alerted Thomas and they performed the spell."

The Potter children all had confused eyes and mouths open, about to protest. None of them could gather an argument past a few stammered words.

"It's all true," Draco said simply.

"How would you know?" Lily asked loudly. "You were only there to help him get the book. How could you know about Thomas' plan?"

James' jaw clenched. Before Draco could respond, he answered, "Because he was there through the whole thing. He works at the Ministry. If he wasn't brainwashed," James stood, anger growing in his face, "he was recruited."

Lily and Albus stared in horror at Draco, realizing it had to be true. Still, they waited a moment, hoping he would deny the accusation, but he didn't.

"He threatened my family," Draco said softly. "Thomas said he would take and torture my wife and Scorpius if I didn't go along with his plan. He…he _did_ take Astoria, for a couple of days, until I relented. She was…" he shuttered, dropping all pretense of snobbery.

Still standing, James' shoulders sagged, regret instantly curling around his mind. He slowly sat back down. "I see."

"You couldn't fight him?" Lily asked quietly. "Or ask for help?"

Draco shook his head. "I'm a coward," he admitted. "I was a pawn for the Dark Lord out of fear, and that same fear crippled me into submission. I did as he asked. I played the double agent, feeding him information about their plans. I released the posters into Hogwarts with the help of a magical portrait that had been planted in Hogwarts. After Hogwarts was evacuated, I felt regret. I didn't want to do any of it. I told my wife to help Harry to get back Hermione from Thomas' clutches. I knew exactly what he was doing to her…and so did my wife. She got Tom and sent him with transportation potions to Harry, so we couldn't be connected to helping Harry, in case Thomas was watching. The potions were supposed to be for Hermione to escape while Harry fought off Thomas long enough to get away himself. Instead," Draco sighed, "Tom went with him. They both saved Hermione, and that muggle girl, Janet. We stopped helping Thomas, then. Outright. Astoria and Scorpius went into hiding. They didn't tell me where, so it couldn't be tortured out of me."

James watched as Draco's face fell into tiredness. This man was forced to do Thomas' bidding, then chose to do the right thing anyway. Even after Thomas' death, he was still scared. James wondered, a moment, if his wife and son had come back yet.

"We didn't anticipate Tom helping Harry," Draco continued. "We figured, after that, that Tom would tip the scales. Even without magic, he was the one person who knew Thomas more than anyone else. And after a betrayal like that, revenge ought to have been the only thing on his mind." Draco shook his head, causing little wisps of hair to fall out of its perfect styling. "Tom wasn't thinking about betrayal at all."

Draco moved his hand, then, to his pocket and pulled out several miniature books. "Tom has diaries. They start out handwritten, but around his fifth year at Hogwarts, they switched to be magical, recording his life without him even having to lift a finger. They have recorded everything: every death he felt, every detail of his original plan to take over the world. And they continued still."

He picked one book out from amongst the others, returning them to his pocket. With practiced ease, he returned it to normal size.

" _The Fascinating and Complicated World of Wandlore?_ " Lily read the title with confusion.

"I snagged one of the removable covers off a book in Tom's library. I didn't want him or Harry to know what I had discovered. I'm sure Tom thought they had stopped long ago." He pulled off the cover, revealing a plain leather book with only a complex-looking Roman numeral on its spine. "This is the only diary that isn't full. It recounts his death at the Battle of Hogwarts, his rebirth from portrait form, and everything that has gone on since."

Draco stared at the book, lost in thought.

"What does it say?" Albus asked, curious about its importance.

"I read the whole battle with Thomas as it happened," Draco replied, eyes still locked on the book. "I know he plans to adopt Gemini so he doesn't have to go back to the orphanage, and I know that many of his thoughts and feelings since helping Harry to rescue Hermione and Janet have been…unexpected."

"Unexpected?" the Potter children said at the same time, their heads reeling from all the information.

Draco's mouth drew together in uncertainty for a few seconds before it relaxed and continued to speak. "He's fallen in love with your father. Romantically. He cares about him, feels connected to him, like they understand one another," he said bitterly. "And your father apparently feels the same. But that's not what is important about this book."

All the air in James' lungs seemed to leave immediately. Shock hit him like a brick over the head. " _What_?"

He looked to his siblings. Lily's face was confused, but Albus' seemed to light up.

Lily shook her head. "If that's not what's important, then what _is_ important?"

"Did you know your father harbored a piece of Tom's soul?" Draco asked, all previous emotion in his voice gone. "He willingly became his horcrux once more."

Lily's confusion was on her face once more with a vengeance. "I…I suppose our mum told us, though not with those words. She said he and Tom had some powerful magic that connected their minds, so Tom could help even though he didn't have magic."

Draco nodded. "Harry Potter is once again Tom Riddle's horcrux. And…" he opened the book a bit past halfway through where a plain bookmark stood out. He used one pale finger to point to the middle of a page. "I once could watch the words write themselves on page, no matter what Tom was doing." He paused a moment, gauging the looks on the faces of the Potter children.

"Okay…" James said, still unsure about the whole conversation. "So what?"

Draco exhaled slowly. Lily and Albus seemed to understand, as their faces had fallen into fear, as Draco was sure his own face was covered in. He looked right at James.

"The words stop after he died."


	35. Like Molasses and Like Wildfire

Harry yawned, stretching his arms above his head. He was beyond tired, but his mind kept pushing his body on. He needed to figure this all out. Books of all kinds were spread out on the table before him, a piece of parchment on top of one just before him where he was taking notes. He'd never been really good at notes, but he found the spell where the quill recorded it for him was much better at it than he was.

He looked across the table at Gemini, his head fallen onto an open book, sound asleep.

With a small smile, Harry pulled out his wand and levitated Gemini a bit, transfiguring the chair he had been sitting in into a small bed. That way, when Gemini woke, he would be right beside Harry to hear what he had discovered.

Harry knew he should probably sleep, too, but he couldn't bear the thought. He had so much to do, still.

He was so thankful that his pensieve idea had worked. He was able to pull the memories from his mind and see just which books Tom had looked at. Once he had those, he read through the important parts and looked for citations, which, thankfully, most wizarding authors writing on the subject had. Apparently, horcruxes were an old type of dark magic, and in order to complete their books, these authors needed older books. Harry found those books, as well—using a librarian charm he may or may not have also looked up in the pensieve—and was writing down all the information he thought he may need. He had now recorded the important facts from books such as _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ —the very copy that once belonged to Hogwarts—to _Complex Spells and Curses of the Dark Arts: A Cognitive Collaboration of Dark Magical Practices_ —a book so old, its title page was in Anglo-Saxon which, Harry discovered, was the language England spoke before the French and William the Conqueror got to it.

He was over halfway through the latter book, now, using a translation spell. He had more than he needed to properly bring back Tom with the exception of one detail. According to all these books, Tom was supposed to be living in a non-corporeal form, as a result of his host body dying. All the spells in these books took that form and gave it a body, which was great. However, Harry was realizing that the spells assumed that even the non-corporeal piece of soul had the tiniest bit of magic. The simplest of spells had the non-corporeal soul inhibit a body of some kind (usually a small animal, corpse, or potion-created body), which was then dropped into a cauldron, mixed with some choice ingredients—bone of the father, flesh of the servant, blood of the enemy—much like Harry witnessed at the graveyard his fourth year at Hogwarts. Even then, that rudimentary body could perform simple magic. Since it did seemed that Tom's non-corporeal self was too weak to do much of anything (even think), Harry was looking for a spell that would not require the soul to move into something separate from the horcrux.

He also had noticed that most of books frowned upon using a living creature as a horcrux, as they do not last nearly as long as inanimate objects. They also mentioned that living creature horcruxes, especially humans, are especially tricky for the non-corporeal soul to leave. The soul, many stated, grows attached to the body the longer it is connected, although none of the books gave him a general amount of time that was considered too much.

_Surely_ , Harry thought, _a few days was fine. The soul wouldn't be too connected by then, right?_ The more Harry read, the more uncertain he became.

Harry continued to read, trying not to concern himself with how slow the flow of new information had become.

_I honestly should sleep_ , he thought suddenly. _I will not ever be able to research properly without it._

Harry nodded, though he wasn't sure why, and yawned. He stood from his chair and transfigured it into a bed. He laid his head onto it and a few minutes later, he was fast asleep.

The morning hadn't come quick enough for the Potter children. Their mother and grandmother hadn't come home last night, and they were beginning to worry. They wondered what could possibly take all night, but stayed hopeful, nonetheless.

Draco had stayed over, feeling the same anxiety the children felt. Alongside that, he did not want to return to his manor for fear there were people waiting there to attack him. He was alone, now. He couldn't risk that.

He hadn't slept last night, letting the children rest. He was surprised in the amount of faith they had, not only in him to protect them, but in their family. They trusted their family would return so much that they could sleep through the night. It was a feeling he wasn't sure he could understand.

James was the first to wake. He sat by Draco's side now, quiet, still in his clothes from yesterday. For a while, Draco had been marveling at how much of a resemblance he had to his father—dark unruly hair, a straight-set jaw, eyes that dared their onlooker to fight. Then, when he grew bored of that, he attempted to read his expression, finding it more complex than Harry's, more practiced in what it wanted to hide. His forehead was wrinkled, but his lips were smoothed into a line; eyes downcast, not staring at the ground but lost in thought. Draco could guess he was worried and stressed—that would make sense—but couldn't find the indications that said so. For all intents and purposes, he looked ponderous, if not a bit weary. Maybe this was the norm for children whose father constantly went on dangerous missions: not letting the concern take over, staying hopeful, trusting.

Not too long after, Lily woke, sitting beside James in her pajamas. She sat for a while in silence with them before announcing she was going to make breakfast and disappearing into the kitchen. Draco had thought she meant she was going to make breakfast for herself (maybe some toast and juice), but soon heard the scraping of pots and clink of metal that told him otherwise.

Albus was soon to wake after that, sitting up and going to change his clothes and brush his teeth, as if it were a normal day. He came back right when Lily emerged from the kitchen asking for help serving breakfast.

Immediately, James stood and pulled out his wand to help. He left the living room and headed into the kitchen, leaving Draco alone in the room.

After a minute or two, Draco stood as well and made his way to the dining room. Four plates were set out around the table, filled with scrambled eggs, toast, and beans. Pitchers floated around their heads, pouring various kinds of juices into their glasses.

"What kind of juice do you want?" James asked him. "We've got apple, orange, cranberry, and lemonade."

Draco gave a small smile. They made him breakfast. How kind. They really were the spawn of Harry Potter.

"I'd like some cranberry, if that's alright."

A pitcher full or bright red juice floated to the seat beside Albus, pouring into the last empty glass and setting itself softly onto the table.

Draco sat in his seat, thinking the breakfast looked wonderfully homey and comfortable, not at all like the refined, professional food he was used to. He took a bite of beans and savored the flavor. The more he considered the food, the more he realized he could not remember the last time he had eaten a meal.

The chilled tartness of cranberry juice graced his tongue as he drank from his glass. The toast was buttery and soft on one side, golden and crispy on the other. The beans, tender and slightly sweet, were hearty. He was about to try a bite of eggs when James spoke up.

"This war is over, right? Once the Ministry is back where it needs to be, it's done?"

Draco set his fork down gently. "I…I can't say for sure. Thomas released prisoners from Azkaban that were Voldemort sympathizers, and he himself had countless other followers, even if his main henchmen are gone. Without Thomas to lead them, it's difficult to say what they'll do. They may wither away and die, or they could try to start over."

The children watched him, pausing for a moment from eating. Instead of meeting their eyes, Draco stared at the food on his plate, wishing for a moment that it might lose its appeal so he could stand and leave.

Suddenly, a ghostly white horse galloped through the air towards them, stopping just before James.

"Sorry for the long gap of time with no checking in," Ginny's voice said. "We were sorting out some important details and catching those responsible for the corruption. It was more difficult than we imagined, considering many feigned being under the Imperious curse, but we've figured it all out. Grandmum and I are finishing up and will be home shortly. Lily, if you could make everyone breakfast, that would be wonderful. We're going straight to sleep when we get home. We're exhausted." The horse sighed. "Love you all. See you in a bit."

The children smiled, their secret fears destroyed in an instant.

"Thank _Merlin_ ," Albus said. "I'm glad they're alright."

Lily giggled. "I'm one step ahead of mum, I guess. Already have breakfast made."

Draco quickly smiled, but picked up his fork and began to eat once more. "Yes, and it is positively delicious. You were taught well."

Lily stared at him, taken aback but still smiling. "Thank you," she said. "My dad taught me, along with Grandma Molly."

With a mouthful of fluffy eggs, Draco nodded as if to compliment them without words. Lily giggled.

"That's one worry off our list," James said softly, face becoming serious once more.

The room then fell into a stiff silence, following suit. The happy faces of Albus and Lily faded into concerned expressions.

Draco felt the weight of the book in his pocket, the one that stopped after Tom falling to the ground from the Astronomy Tower, three words on his mind just for Harry.

"Surely Dad's trying to bring him back, don't you think?" Lily said softly. "Maybe we ought to go help once Mom gets back."

Albus nodded. "Yeah. And I bet Gemini is still with him."

Lily gave a half-hearted laugh. "Knowing Dad, he probably hasn't eaten or slept since. If nothing else, we need to make him take care of himself."

The two looked to James. Draco had noticed that he seemed to be taking the news he gave them with the most criticism. He said it was impossible for any of the latter parts to be true. Their dad couldn't love the former Dark Lord, he said. He wouldn't have made a horcrux for him, or volunteered himself to be that horcrux. All those things were not like him. That wasn't Harry Potter.

_But it is_ , Draco thought. _Harry became the horcrux to protect Gemini, a boy that was so similar to a young Tom Riddle. The horcrux let them understand each other better, communicate in ways most people wish they were capable of. If it didn't develop into love, what else would it have been?_

Draco sighed inwardly. He was still so bitter. He had once thought he loved Harry Potter. All those years ago at Hogwarts. He offered his friendship to Harry, and he had rejected him. Around the remains of his dejection, he built an obsession that got out of hand. He had even gone through the trouble to make those damn buttons that said "Potter Stinks" and passed them out to the whole school. He had been naïve. Then, he was supposed to kill Dumbledore for Lord Voldemort, and everything changed. He didn't have time for stupid crushes. Maybe that's why, all these years later, he still thought about it. He never had the opportunity to get over it. He just destroyed himself enough inside to feel unworthy of love.

James said nothing, simply pushing around the beans left on his plate.

"James," Lily said, a tone of pleading in her voice. "We'll go and talk to Dad. He'll explain it all."

"Yes," he replied, "he'll explain how none of it is true. The horcrux, the…whatever. All lies."

Albus rolled his eyes in irritation. "James, just because you don't like it doesn't mean it's not true."

"I never said I didn't like it," James said matter-of-fact. "It's just not Dad."

Albus pressed his lips together a moment and dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter.

"What's not Dad?" he asked, anger building in his voice. "Please, explain to us what about the information is _not Dad_."

James and Albus stared at one another with narrowing eyes and hard-line mouths. James continued to remain stubborn.

"You know _exactly_ what is _not-Dad_ ," he bit back. "Dad is a warrior, capable of getting himself out of the Imperious Curse with _sheer power of will_. He'd never agree to be a horcrux, let alone to a man who murdered his parents and is responsible for so many other deaths."

"He would if lives were on the line," Albus said through his teeth. "He gave himself up for everyone at the Battle of Hogwarts. He's about saving people and sacrifice."

Draco watched curiously, not quite sure what the argument was about, since the fact of Harry becoming Tom's horcrux was not really one that was debatable.

James shook his head. "Have you even met Dad? He hates dark magic. He wouldn't even touch the stuff."

Albus said nothing for a moment before slamming his hands on the table and standing. Although Draco had thought Albus looked like a cross between his parents, he could now see all the features of Harry become more prominent in his anger, especially as this almond–shaped bright green eyes shone with rage.

"Let's talk about what you _really_ don't think is _like Dad_ ," he said, voice barely controlled from a yell. "You haven't even said it since you heard it."

Lily shook her head. "James, Albus, we don't need t-"

"That's because it's just as impossible as him becoming a horcrux again," James shouted above his sister's voice, standing as well. "This has nothing to do with anything but the impossibility of it!"

"Why is it so impossible?" Albus asked, half shouting himself. "Why is it so impossible for our Dad to love a man? Does that not fit in with your definition of _warrior_?"

James huffed, voice lowering. "Albus, you _know_ that's not what I meant."

"Isn't it?" Albus shouted, at full volume now. "Isn't that what you meant to say? It's _impossible_ because Dad is a _hero_ and a _warrior_ and _great man_ , so he can't _possibly_ love men!"

James shook his head, looking at the floor now. "Albus," he said much softer now, "it's not about that."

Draco watched, paralyzed with confusion and shock, as Albus continued to scream, tears pooling in his eyes.

"Of _course_ it's about that! Because it's _fine_ for your kid brother to be gay because he is someone you protect! Someone who _needs_ your protection! But not Dad, _nooo_. He can protect himself, so he can't _possibly_ like men."

Realization dawned on Draco. This argument wasn't about their Dad. Not really.

James pinched the bridge of his nose. "Albus, that's not what I think. I know you're capable of handling yourself, no matter who you love."

Albus shook his head. "No," he said, his voice now dangerously quiet. Draco watched as the features of Harry in a rage slipped away, revealing a long nose and subtle freckles over his pale face: utterly Weasley. "You said you were okay with it, but you've looked at me differently since I told you. I'm not your brother anymore, I'm some helpless thing that needs you to look after it."

James sighed. " _Yes!_ Yes, I have, but not for the reason you think." He ran a hand over his face, letting his hand rest on his chin a moment before removing it and continuing. "That night when the Death Eaters came into our rooms, I thought I would be able to protect you both." He met Lily's eyes for a moment before turning his attention back to Albus. "I forgot my _bloody wand,_ Albus. If it wasn't for Gemini, we'd all have been taken by those men, and I don't think I would have even been able to forgive myself for it. I've felt more protective since then of both of you, but I've always been pretty protective of Lily, so maybe it seems like it was only you." James paused for a moment, looking for words. "I know you can handle yourself, Albus, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try and protect you to my last breath. Gay or not."

The room was thrown into a suffocating silence, probably touching to the Potter children, but sort of awkward for Draco. He felt like he was peeping at a conversation that wasn't meant for his eyes or ears.

In the silence, a crack was audible from outside. The Potter children tensed for a moment.

"Mischief Managed!" a voice cried from the distance.

The children's faces erupted into smiles and they ran to the front door.

Draco followed slowly behind them, stopping at the doorway to watch as the children ran up to their mother and hugged her fiercely, then going to their grandmother, aunt, and uncle. He could see the redness about their eyes and slump of their shoulders. Surely they were exhausted. He hated to further delay their sleep, but he was sure his presence would do just that.

Ginny was the first to see him as she began walking towards the house. Curiosity crossed her features before a grim expression took over.

"Should we take your presence as a good or bad omen?" she asked loud enough for Draco to hear.

At the question, the other three adults looked up from the children to the doorway and began to follow.

"Draco!" Hermione said, her tone pleasant but concerned. Ron's brows furrowed together beside her.

"I'm sure there's a good explanation," Mrs. Weasley said as they neared the house.

Draco nodded. "Yes, actually. I need to explain many things, first and foremost of which is why the news on the battle yesterday has spread like wildfire. Second," he glanced at each of them for a moment, "why Harry Potter is trying, and likely failing, to bring Tom Riddle back from the dead."

* * *

Gemini rose back to consciousness to the sound of a quill scratching on parchment: a sound he wished to hear again at Hogwarts. Still thinking himself asleep, he considered that maybe he was dreaming of Hogwarts. It was not until he heard a sigh that he realized he was not dreaming any longer, but awake.

"What time is it?" Gemini asked groggily.

He heard Harry give one quiet laugh before answering, "Half past eleven."

Gemini instantly sat up.

" _Half past eleven?_ " he repeated incredulously.

He looked to Harry, noticing his amused face.

"You didn't wake me up?" Gemini asked, slightly offended that Harry let him sleep so long.

"We were up late last night," Harry replied. "I figured you needed it. I only just woke up a bit ago."

Upon hearing that, Gemini began to notice Harry's bed hair and half-sleepy expression.

"Oh," he said simply. At that moment, his stomach growled.

Harry chuckled again. "I sympathize."

He watched as Harry stood, carefully picking the parchment that floated beside him from the air and placing it on the open book in front of him. The quill that had been taking notes fell onto the table.

"I'll go make us some lunch," Harry said, beginning to walk towards the door of the library. "What would you like?"

Gemini stared at Harry, unsure of what he was asking. "What?"

Harry stopped walking and turned to face Gemini, one eyebrow raised slightly. "What do you mean what? What would you like to eat?"

"I-" Gemini was at a loss of what to say. He'd never gotten to pick what he ate before. What could he pick? Did he have options, or was he allowed to pick anything? "What can you make?" he asked, softly.

Harry pressed his shoulders back and placed a hand on his hip. "Pretty much anything," he said proudly. "Any sort of meat, pastas, casseroles, soups, a few pastries. I'm pretty good at sandwiches." He smirked. "We can be as fancy—or as not fancy—as you'd like. I bet I can figure it out."

Gemini gave a small smile. He could pick anything. But what should he pick? His mind raced through meals he had enjoyed: Christmas when he was six and someone brought sweet potatoes with marshmallows—the first time he'd ever eaten them—on top for all the children at the home, that time he won a bet with Mary at the orphanage and got half her hashbrown casserole, that first breakfast at Hogwarts with sausage and eggs and toast…

At last, Gemini knew. "Could we have breakfast?"

Harry smiled back. "Of course. What do you think: toast, some sausage, eggs…roasted potatoes?"

Gemini nodded fiercely, his stomach rumbling once more.

Harry pulled out his wand. "Perfect. I'll be right back." He flicked his wand, turned, and disappeared with a crack.

At that, Gemini stretched and tossed his legs over the side of the bed. Running a hand through his hair, he thought for a moment. _What do I do while Mr. Potter is gone? Get ready, I suppose._

Gemini stood and turned to look at the bed. He supposed it had been a chair before. It looked awfully out of place in the library. Maybe he ought to change it back? He knew the formula and had successfully turned a match into a needle (on his first try) in Professor Davies' office to prove he was good as transfiguration. Surely he could turn a bed into a chair?

He stared at the bed and thought about the chair it had once been. He'd never undone a transfiguration. Was it different than just transfiguring something? Or did one simply re-transfigure it? He supposed he wouldn't know until he gave it a shot.

_The weight is likely to be considerable, at least compared to a match, so I'll need to concentrate hard and give quite a sum of power to do it._ Gemini took a step to the side to get a view of the thickness of the mattress. _Fairly thick, but still heavy. And it's not an animal, so maybe this won't be too bad_.

Gemini took a breath and grabbed his wand from off the table. He didn't know if there was more than one incantation for transfiguring things, so he settled for using the one he had used to change the match into a needle.

In moments, the bed shrunk back into the chair it had been before. With a smile, Gemini looked at it proudly.

There was another crack just behind him and Gemini turned.

"Mr. Potter, I-" Gemini stopped himself as he realized it was not Mr. Potter standing in the spot behind him, but Lily, Albus, James, and a tall blond man in nice clothes that were slightly wrinkled in places.

"Gemini!" Lily yelled cheerily. She broke from the grip of her brothers and ran to hug him.

"Hey, Lily." Gemini said in surprise. A large, bright smile came onto his face as he placed his arms around her. He'd never have expected them to visit him here.

"Gem," Albus said, now by their side. "You're a right mess." He laughed.

Gemini looked down at himself, noticing how wrinkled and crumpled his clothes looked. He assumed his hair was similarly messy. "Yeah," he said, looking back up at Albus. "I woke up not too long ago."

"Where is Harry?" the blond man asked.

Gemini released Lily and looked over to where the man and James stood. The man had a chiseled sort of nose and cheeks. His blond hair was almost white, it was so light. Although Gemini had never met him, he could conclude who he was based on family resemblance: the father of Scorpius Malfoy.

"He went to get some food for breakfast," Gemini said simply. "He said he'd be back soon."

Lily and Albus' brows furrowed in confusion.

"Food?" Lily asked.

"Breakfast?" Albus asked. "It's nearly lunch time."

Gemini nodded. "Yeah, he's making breakfast for lunch."

"Fantastic," Mr. Malfoy commented sarcastically. He muttered something to himself, but Gemini couldn't quite make it out from where he was. James chuckled softly in agreement.

Suddenly, Lily gasped loudly. Everyone turned to look at her, finding her pointing at the dead body of Tom still laying on the ground.

"Oh, yeah," Gemini said lamely. "Mr. Potter set him there after he fell but…I think he uses it to motivate him to research faster." After seeing the faces of the others—confused and concerned—he aimed to explain. "He's not actually dead. We're going to bring him back."

"We know," James replied. "That's why we're here. We want to help."

Gemini's eyebrows pulled together. "You do?" He was almost certain they all did not like Tom very much. _They probably would like him even less if they knew he was Tom Riddle_ , he thought.

Albus nodded. "Yes. Mr. Malfoy told us everything. We wanted to help anyway we would. We figured our dad wouldn't even be caring for himself properly but…I guess when he has others to care for, it's different." He shrugged.

"Everything?" Gemini asked. Albus, who was looking Gemini in the eyes, flinched slightly. His eyes must have changed color. He hoped they didn't reflect the slight fear he felt in his heart, but rather the intensifying confusion in his mind.

"Yes," Mr. Malfoy answered. "All of it. From who he really is to why Harry doesn't just leave him dead."

Gemini didn't need to look at himself to know his face had probably lost all color.

"He's not bad," Gemini blurted out. "He's…he knows a lot and…and he really cares about us."

Before anyone else could say anything, there was another crack as Harry apparated back into the room, sacks of groceries in his hands.

"I figured we'd need more food than just breakfast so I just shopped for the rest of-" Harry's voice trailed off as he noticed the others standing in the room.

"Dad!" Albus and Lily shouted at the same time.

A huge smile cracked on Harry's face as they ran towards him, arms out for a hug. He dropped the bags carefully and accepted the hugs gratefully.

" _Merlin_ ," he said, "it feels like it's been forever since I saw you all last." His eyes flitted over Draco a moment before landing on James, a hopeful smile on his face. James did not come to hug him.

"You've a lot of explaining to do, Dad," James said instead. "We know everything."

Harry's arms slackened around Lily and Albus. He sighed.

_He didn't come to help_ , Gemini thought. _James came for answers._

As if prepping himself for the onslaught, Harry straightened his shoulders and stepped back from Lily and Albus to grab the bags once more.

"I do," he said calmly. "I'll make lunch and explain it all then."

"We've already eaten," James answered quickly.

"We had breakfast hours ago, James," Lily bit back. "Don't try and pretend you aren't ready to eat a whole hippogriff."

James said nothing.

Harry simply nodded and headed out of the room. Gemini suddenly felt the need to defend him.

"He's done nothing wrong," Gemini said pleadingly.

"A horcrux isn't wrong?" James asked, frank in his tone. "Tom Riddle _alive again_ isn't wrong?"

Gemini felt the bit of fear in him grow. He didn't want to end his friendship with James, but he wanted Tom to live again even more. Did he really have to choose? He hoped he didn't.

"No, it isn't wrong. Tom has changed. He told me everything wrong he did in his life and why he did it. He said he was like me!" Gemini jumped at his own loudness. He hadn't meant to yell. "Except he didn't have any friends except his pet snake. He made the mistake of splitting his soul more than once and it turned him into a monster. He didn't feel anything, not even for his pet, and then he died. When he came back, he was _whole_. And without his magic, he realized how terrible he had once been. He's helped Harry through _everything_ he's done to fight Thomas. He saved me. Thomas was about to do something terrible to me and he fought him and _died_ doing it."

Gemini looked to Tom's body still laying on the floor. He didn't have anything left to say, and so he felt the room fall into a tense silence. No one spoke or moved. Gemini didn't know what else to say, but he needed them to understand. Thoughts swirled in his head until he finally settled on what to say.

"I love him like a father," Gemini said softly. "He was there for me when I was scared of my powers. He and Mr…he and Harry…helped me work through it. They both helped me train, and Tom always knew just how to help me when I struggled. He promised that he would never let me go back to that awful orphanage." Gemini took a shaky breath, trying to remind himself that Tom wasn't dead forever. "This has become my home and Tom was the one who offered it to me."

Gemini watched the others, trying to see any sympathy on their faces. He felt so alone on this side of the room while they all stood over there, eyes on him, deciding if his happiness was worth it. Uncertainty pooled in his stomach, heavy and uncomfortable. Harry was making him lunch, but he wasn't sure he wanted it anymore.

Lily's head whipped around to look at James. "Is that good enough for you? He's not evil. We knew that."

James scoffed, still staring at Gemini. "Having a terrible childhood is a terrible excuse for being evil. Dad had a terrible childhood. Look where that took him."

"You've heard Dad's story. You _know_ that his childhood was _nothing_ compared to Tom's." Lily placed her hands on her hips. "And it wasn't his childhood that made him evil. It was his soul being split!"

"Do you know how to make a horcrux?" James suddenly turned to face Lily. "You have to murder someone! Tom Riddle, the boy with a bad childhood, killed someone so that he couldn't die. Does that sound anything _but_ evil to you?"

Lily shook her head, holding one hand out in front of her, palm out. "I'm not going to debate about the past with you. He's changed. He's help Dad defeat Thomas. He _died_ to protect him and Gemini."

James scoffed. "You're not going to debate me because you know there's no argument."

"No," Lily said defiantly. "I'm not going to argue because you are more stubborn than a _mule_ , James."

"People _died_ to bring him back from death." James balled his hands into fists. " _Merlin_ , someone died for _this_ horcrux, Lily."

"People died so that I could be alive!" Gemini shouted suddenly. He realized it sounded desperate and panicked. He could feel a blush come over his face.

The others were silent for a moment.

"What?" Albus asked then, shock apparent in his voice.

"Thomas," Gemini said. He really didn't want to talk about this. It wasn't the same at all. "He used a potion on my mom while she was pregnant." His voice sped up rapidly. "One soul per potion, and she took it every day and then she realized it and took a reversing one and she died and I got all those souls."

James shook his head. "It's…different."

"Is it? What makes it different? The fact that Thomas did it and not me?" Gemini didn't know where he was going with it, but the more he spoke, the more confident he felt. "If Thomas hadn't murdered those people, I wouldn't be alive. Are you saying I shouldn't be alive?"

"That's…" James looked to Lily, his face pleading now. She offered him a stern look. "You know that's not what I'm saying."

"Tom did it for the right reasons this time, James," Albus said, his face a mixture of uncertainty and submission. "You know Dad wouldn't have done it if he didn't feel like he had to."

James sighed. "But he still had to-"

Harry opened the library door, effectively silencing the conversation.

"Lunch is ready," he said quietly. "I've made some for everyone. Though the table may be a bit crowded. There isn't much room for an extended table in the dining area."

As he disappeared through the open door, everyone in the room followed behind. Upon arriving to the dining area, Gemini could see what Harry meant. The length of the table nearly blocked the entryway to the kitchen on one side and touched the wall on the other. There were three chairs each on both long sides with barely any space between them and one chair at the end, which would block the way to the kitchen with someone sitting in it. The table was lined with plates filled with fried eggs, toast, sausage, and potatoes. Next to each plate, a cup of orange juice. In the middle was some butter and jam. It was everything Gemini had hoped for and more. He only wished he were as hungry as he was earlier.

Everyone stared at the chairs a moment, not sure of where they should sit. The more Gemini looked over the table, the more he felt something was off about it. He wasn't sure anyone else noticed it. He counted the plates.

"Why are there seven plates?" Gemini asked. "There's only six of us."

He watched as everyone else looked at the table, counting the plates, and then at one another, counting how many of them there were.

"Oh," Harry said. "I…I must admit I was a bit distracted." Without using his wand or saying an incantation, the plate lifted and floated it into his hands. "I'll just take this into the kitchen. Please, sit down, everyone."

As Harry walked into the kitchen, Gemini decided to take the spot he normally sat at, near the head of the table where Harry usually sat. Once he sat, the Potter children picked their seats on the opposite side, leaving Mr. Malfoy to sit beside him.

"I'm not usually one to eat breakfast for two consecutive meals," Mr. Malfoy said to Gemini as he sat. "But I'll let it slide this once, since it is rather different than the first breakfast I ate today."

Gemini smiled softly at his plate. He would forever appreciate meals cooked especially for him. This was the first, and he was sure he would love it, regardless of what state his stomach was in from the argument.

Harry stepped back into the room, taking his seat at the head of the table. With half a smile, he picked up his fork and took a bite of sausage. Once he did, everyone else took the cue to begin eating their food. After he finished chewing his bite, he placed his fork down and began to talk.

"On several occasions during this war with Thomas, Tom has proven to me that he is on my side," Harry began carefully. His green eyes glanced around the table, meeting everyone's gaze for a brief moment. "He doesn't have magic, but he went with me to face Thomas and rescue Hermione. I mean, he didn't go willingly at first; he was sucked in through a portrait. But once he was there, we worked alongside one another. Without prompting, he not only helped us escape, but made sure Janet, incredibly injured at the time, went with us."

Harry was quiet a moment. Everyone else at the table had stopped eating, as well.

"We made it back with both of them because of him." Harry stopped meeting everyone's eyes, instead taking to staring at space at the other end of the table. "At the Burrow, he accidently tripped over Janet. When I got there, I saw true regret in his eyes. He saw her and understood that it was a terrible thing. It was the first time I realized he was truly human." Harry smirked, then. He seemed to be thinking back.

After a short moment, the smirk faded. "Then Thomas took Gemini. I was terrified beyond all belief. I saw what Thomas had done to the aurors, to Hermione, _Janet…_ and I thought immediately I would do _anything_ to stop him from getting to the son he hated. Tom had offered for me to make a horcrux, and I was hesitant. I knew it was dark magic, but Tom knows so much. I thought his knowledge could help me face Thomas. I needed his mind, and so I agreed. He got all the ingredients and the spell. He knew I wasn't fond of killing someone, so he got a muggle prisoner he knew I wouldn't feel bad killing. That prisoner had raped and murdered many women and one little girl. Still, I wasn't able to do it. Tom did it, and once he did, I did the spell."

Harry finally stopped staring at nothing and looked directly at James.

"I knew it was dark magic, but it didn't feel like it. Our minds connected and everything was suddenly so much clearer between us. I could see his every thought and feeling. And that was what surprised me: he wasn't some cold, unfeeling monster. He had so many feelings, especially about his past. When we went to rescue Gemini, I felt his fear. When he and Gemini talked, I felt his concern and his caring. He _cared_. We trained together for days and this thing I once thought was unnatural was suddenly the most natural thing in the world. I knew his motives and his desires. I didn't agree with him all the time, but I could pinpoint exactly what he was thinking and why. It's…" Harry looked away from James at last. "…the closest I've ever felt with anyone. We understood each other's past. We navigated the present together for the sake of the future."

Harry went silent.

Gemini glanced around the table, unsure. He saw everyone staring at things in thought. Was he supposed to be doing the same? He wasn't sure. He didn't find the words particularly thought-provoking. He already knew most of what he had said, and the rest wasn't a surprise. Gemini stared at his plate, trying to contemplate whether he had missed something in Harry's words. However, the more he stared at his plate, the more he realized he was incredibly hungry, and that the food Harry had made for him was getting cold.

With some hesitation, Gemini picked up his fork, slow and quiet, and picked up a bite of potatoes.

Harry suddenly chuckled, startling Gemini and causing him to drop most of the potatoes off his fork.

"You're welcome to eat, Gemini," Harry said gently. "No need to feel self-conscious about it. The food is there for you to eat it."

With a light blush and small smile, Gemini grabbed more potatoes and ate them happily.

As if taking his own advice, Harry began to eat, too. After a while, Gemini noticed Lily and Albus continue to eat, too. Not too long after, Mr. Malfoy and James ate too. Not long after, Gemini's plate was empty and his stomach was delightfully full.

"That was delicious, Mr. Potter," he praised. "Thank you so much."

"Of course," Harry said, a small bit of a smile in his eyes. His plate was empty, too. "I'll take our plates to the sink. Hopefully that will make the table a bit roomier."

He disappeared into the kitchen and returned to his chair empty-handed. They sat in silence as everyone else finished their plates.

"Everyone done?" Harry asked kindly. Seeing everyone's nods, he picked up each plate. "I'll just be a bit. I'm going to do the dishes before going back to research."

"No you're not," Lily answered suddenly.

Harry stopped his trip to the kitchen and turned to look at her.

"You're going to go research right now," she said sternly. "James, Albus, and I are going to do dishes for you."

Before Harry could protest, Albus pulled out his wand and the plates levitated into Lily's hands.

"We're here to help you," Lily said. "Even if we are only helping with the chores, it gives you more time to do what you need to do."

With a smile, Harry said, "Thank you," and moved out of the way so Lily and Albus could get into the kitchen.

James did not move from his chair. After a moment, Lily came out of the kitchen.

" _James Sirius Potter_ ," she said, sounding very much like a scolding mother. "Get in here and help us with these dishes."

With a sigh, James pushed himself up from the table and made his way into the kitchen.

Harry pressed his lips together in a smile and looked to Mr. Malfoy.

"I should be leaving," the blond man said. "I really only came to drop off the children. I'm sure the newly rooted Ministry needs my help."

Harry nodded. Before Gemini could blink twice, Draco left with a crack.

Gemini followed Harry back into the library. They took their seats back in their chairs, resuming their studies.

For a while, Gemini focused on the book in his hands. It was one Harry had already looked over and taken notes on, but he wanted Gemini to read over the important parts and understand them. He had said every detail was important, and notes wouldn't do it justice.

So far, he'd learned a lot about the process of making horcruxes, which was not _too terrible_ , as he had once thought. In his childhood, he had imagined Voldemort using a spell to tear into himself and physically remove the soul from his body, where he found it in pieces, like glass. That wasn't how it worked at all. After the murder, the soul _was_ harmed, but also at its most fluid. The spell took advantage of that fluidity and separation by removing the piece from the host body and placing it into the horcrux before the soul has a chance to heal. It was theoretically fascinating, but practically complex. Only incredibly skilled wizards even had a chance of it working. Gemini didn't realize that a wizard could go through all the steps of making a horcrux, even killing someone, and then finding that their soul piece refuses to leave their body or enter the horcrux. Souls seemed to be stubborn things. Obviously they preferred their host bodies over anything else. The whole idea of a magically assessable soul made Gemini's mind reel with what other sort of spells deal with souls. Maybe, once this was all over, he could look into-

Without warning, Harry slammed a book closed on the table, causing him to jump.

" _Damn it_!" he roared. After a moment, he placed a hand over his eyes.

"What's wrong, Mr. Potter?" Gemini asked almost in a whisper.

"That was the last book." Harry gestured at it with a flat, angry hand. "And I still've no idea how to bring him back-" Harry's voice cracked and his face fell all at once into despair.

Gemini stood, feeling the dread beginning to loom over him as well. "That can't be!" He looked around the table, looking for a book that wasn't upside-down or familiar. "There _must_ be more. That isn't the end. Still on the shelves…"

Gemini ran over the section all the books had been coming from and skimmed over the titles.

"This was the last one, Gemini," Harry replied, his voice low, hardly audible from where Gemini stood.

He shook his head upon seeing none that would help them. "Another library then. There've got to be other books on it. That can't be all of-"

"He has the biggest collection of books on the subject," Harry said back, quieter still. "Any other library would only have repeat information."

Gemini walked back to where Harry stood. "There's got to be more!" He yelled. Why was he yelling? He wasn't angry. He was desperate.

Harry fell to his knees beside him, tears in his eyes rolling down his cheeks and onto his pale neck and slumped shoulders.

"That's it," he said. "We can't do it. We can't bring him back."


	36. The Giving Tree

Silver along the ceiling, catching in the light in such a way that it seemed to move like it was molten. The more Harry stared, the more he wondered if it was really liquid, and the more he assured himself that it couldn't be. _It's an optical illusion_ , he thought. _It seems to be one thing, but it really isn't. Like a horcrux seems to be a cheat on death, but it really isn't._

He'd been laying there on the floor next to Tom's body since yesterday. No one had tried to get him to do anything but talk, which he did. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he had seen Gemini fall asleep beside him and wake up, so the night had probably passed. Sometime last night, James had sent a patronus to Draco and he had taken the Potter children home. James had come closer to understanding, he thought. And Lily and Albus had gotten further from it.

He knew he should probably do something. He had to feed Gemini or the poor boy was going to starve. Gemini surely wasn't going to feed himself as long as Harry remained in that spot. But when the thought of moving came to his mind, it was as if his body would not respond.

Harry had never pegged himself as the dramatic depression type. He had always been the angry/angst type, ready to fight anyone and everyone. He didn't feel like fighting. He felt like laying there on the floor for forever, until he himself died and became a corpse, just like the body that was beside him.

_But then Gemini would, too_ , he thought.

Gemini laid at Harry's other side, staring up at the same ceiling. He wondered what color Gemini's eyes were. He wondered what Gemini was thinking, and if he shared the thought that Harry was a failure.

If he couldn't bring Tom back, what would happen to Gemini? Harry couldn't let him go back to that orphanage. Not after all they had been through in the past few weeks. That would be like letting an eleven-year-old Harry return to the Dursleys' house so that he could face worse neglect than he had ever felt in his life, cut off from the magical world and all the people who inhabited it. No, he wouldn't let Gemini go back there. It was what Tom would've wanted.

_He's not dead, damn it!_ he told himself. _He still lives! You have to bring him back_.

_I can't_ , another part of him thought. _I don't know how._

_Find out!_ he thought. _You are one of the most powerful wizards on the planet. You have the resources. There's another way_.

Harry sighed—the first sound in probably the past few hours other than his and Gemini's breathing.

_But first_ , he thought, _promise Gemini he will not return to that orphanage_.

_But he's got to go back_ , he thought reasonably. _At least for the adoption process. Can't adopt a child that isn't there._

_Then do not make a promise you cannot keep_.

"Gemini," Harry said quietly, barely above a whisper, though he hadn't meant it to be. He supposed he hadn't spoken for a while. How long, exactly, he couldn't say. "I promise that no matter what happens, this will always be your home. Your days at the orphanage are past."

Beside him, Gemini turned his head to look at him. Harry met his eyes: navy blue lined with darker blues in it, like velvet.

_This child is marvelous_ , he thought. _He deserves so much more from life._

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Gemini replied softly.

Once more, Harry sighed, readying himself again. "Are you ready to try again?" he asked, a bit more control in his volume.

"Try what again?" Gemini asked in reply. "We went through all the books about horcruxes Tom has."

Harry sat up slowly, but his eyes still went dark for a moment with blood rush and dizziness. His head hurt from the hardness of the floor, but he ignored it. "Yes, but we have an entire library. It took Tom eleven years to come back the first time he died, and twenty-two years the last time. We've only given it two days. We've got time, but the sooner we start," Harry watched as Gemini sat up, too, "the sooner he's back."

Gemini nodded. "Alright. What shall we look for, then?"

"For now?" Harry carefully stood, finding his legs weak. Still, he extended a hand to help Gemini up. "I suppose we take inventory of the subjects he's got. See where we go from there."

Gemini grabbed his hand and Harry pulled him up gracefully.

"Right then," Gemini said. "Well, we've pillaged the section on horcruxes. Next to that section is Legilimency and Dark Arts."

Harry nodded as he walked towards the table. He picked up the quill laying on the table and quickly summoned a piece of parchment. On it, be began to list out the number of bookcases, making a neatly organized table of the information.

"There are…fifteen rows with five bookcases each in them…horcruxes were on row three, case two," he said while writing.

"Legilimency was on the same case," Gemini called out. "Dark arts is in cases three and four."

"I saw history books in row four, cases two and three…" Harry was scribbling like mad. The action made him feel productive, like maybe they really were getting closer to getting Tom back.

Once he finished, he turned back to look at the isles of cases. "One of these rows has muggle books down it." Harry scanned them, trying to remember. "Was it…row ten?"

Harry walked over to the isle, his mind running fast with thoughts. He scanned the first case. " _Magical Law in the Past and Present, Third Edition…_ " he mumbled to himself, scanning over titles. "… _The Ministry of Magic: Moments of Movement in Magical Law_ … I'm going to say this is whole case is about Magical Law."

He heard movement and poked his head out of the isle to see Gemini rushing over to the parchment to write that down. Harry went over to the next case, and the next. "There's _loads_ on magical creatures, especially dark ones. Oddly, most of them are by the same author, Newt Scamander." Harry's eyes continued to scan and skim. "Cases two, three, and four are all magical creatures. Case five is all about…snakes? Of all different kinds, magical and not." Harry chuckled to himself. "What a _Slytherin_ ," he muttered.

"What was that?" Gemini asked.

"I'm moving on to isle nine!" he replied, making his way around the last case of isle ten and into isle nine.

Looking over these books, it seemed difficult to pin point one subject on them, as they covered many subjects. After a moment, Harry found the commonality between them all.

"Case five is all How-To books! Everything from surviving in the wild to playing the piano. Hm." Harry wondered for a moment if Tom had ever read that book on playing the piano, or if he just owned it because he eventually wanted to play it.

He moved onto the next case and smiled seeing familiar names amongst the authors. "Edmund Spencer, Emily Dickenson, Lord Tennyson…" he chuckled even more as he skimmed over the lower shelves. " _Alice in Wonderland_? _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_? Oh Merlin, poetry _and_ children's books."

As he went along, he only continued to be surprised by what he found. "Muggle Non-fiction? There's Shakespeare…a whole case dedicated to him! Classic muggle novels…" Harry touched a few titles he knew, from _1984_ to _Pride and Prejudice_ to _The Lord of the Rings_.

Harry had just found Tom's guilty pleasure, hadn't he? Muggle books of all kinds.

Turning his head, he called to Gemini, "All of isle nine is muggle books!" only to find that Gemini was standing right beside him. "Oh."

"Is it _really_ all muggle books?" Gemini had a sort of astonished half smile on his face as he stared at all the books.

"It is," Harry said, stepping back and marveling at it, too. That was something the three of them shared: an insight into the muggle world most others did not have. They spent warm summer days inside while everyone else played. Tom copied words from the dictionary, both as a punishment and as an effort to learn new ways to say things. Harry snuck off with Shakespeare books—the only type of book his aunt and uncle owned that wasn't entirely pictures—to his cupboard in hopes to escape the world for just a moment.

"What sorts of books did they let you have at the orphanage, Gemini?" Harry asked quietly, unsure if the subject was one Gemini wanted to discuss.

"Either really complex ones or incredibly childish ones. Not much in between," Gemini said, running his hands over the book spines in the fourth case. "Lots of these ones, actually." Gemini smiled somberly as he pulled one out, cover bright green like it was colored with child's paint.

Harry stepped closer to inspect it. " _The Giving Tree_?" Harry had never heard of that book before, or the author. "By Shel Silverstein. Never heard of him."

"He's American," Gemini whispered as he opened the book carefully, as if it might fall apart in his hands. "This is the one they would read us when parents came in to look at adopting."

Once inside the book, there was no color but the whiteness of the page, the black lines of sketches and printed words.

"What's it about?" Harry asked.

"Well," Gemini a bit louder than earlier. "There's this tree who loves this boy who always spends time with it, eating its apples, climbing its branches. And the boy loves the tree. But one day, he stops coming to play. Much later, he comes back, grown up a bit. The tree offers itself for the boy to play on, but all he wants is money. The tree offers for him to take all its apples and sell them in the city to make money so he can be happy. He does. He's gone for a long time again. Then he comes back one day. The tree offers again for him to play on it, but he just wants a house so he can have a family. The tree offers its branches for him to build a house so he can be happy, and he builds one, and is gone again for a long time. Then, the he comes back again and says he wants a boat to get away from everything. The tree offers for him to cut down its trunk and make a boat so he can be happy. He does, and is gone again. Then, he comes back an old man. The tree stump is sad because it doesn't have anything to offer to him to make him happy, but he just says he is tired and wants a place to sit. The stump offers for him to sit on it, and he does. It ends saying the tree was happy."

Harry's brows furrowed as he let the story sink in a moment. After he thought about it, he realized he was no closer to the meaning. "What?" he said lamely.

"The ladies at the center used to tell us they were the Giving Tree, and that we could come to them for anything and that they would provide it if it would make us happy." Gemini scoffed. "It was just a show for the prospective parents. That doesn't even make sense for them to say, if you think about it. The boy is never happy, even after he has all these things he thought he wanted. The only time the book says he is happy is when he is a child, playing on the tree."

Gemini closed the book and put it back onto the shelf.

Suddenly, Harry thought maybe he understood it a bit better. "Yeah. Life's a lot like that. Everyone is always looking to be happy. Material things and people are never enough," he said, thinking back to his life. He thought he would be happy before, many times in his life, like there was some formula to reach it, and he had all the variables. Of course, he hadn't had a happy childhood, so maybe he wasn't like the boy, after all.

Gemini took in a deep breath. "I guess we should be looking around the dark arts section? Surely something in there could help Tom."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, let's look there."

Gemini and Harry walked out of isle nine of the library and into isle three, where over half a bookcase was still empty.

"I'll look in case one," he told Gemini. "You take three. Then if we don't find anything, we'll look at four and five."

Without another word, Gemini began skimming titles and picking out books in the third bookcase while Harry did the same in the first bookcase.

_The Oldest of Magic: the Mind, Body, and Soul of Wizards…The Laws of the Soul…The Sun and the Soul…_ Harry read. "Soul magic?" he whispered to himself. He grabbed the three books from the shelf and continued to read: _If Magic be the Light, the Soul be the Lightbulb, Soul Magic and its Repercussions, The Secret Magic of the Soul, Dark or Light: Types of Soul Magic_.

These were all books that seemed could be helpful. Grabbing his wand, Harry charmed them all to follow him as he made his way back to the table. They landed nicely on a free corner of the table. With another flick of his wand, the books on horcruxes that littered the table flew back to their bookcase and placed themselves on the shelves (all out of order, likely, but Harry would worry about that later). He placed two of the books in his arms on top of the stack and opened the last one to read, parchment and quill ready to take notes.

_The soul is the sense of self of the individual, residing inside the materialistic body,_ he read. "It serves as the memory, awareness, and individuality mindset," he said aloud, the quill writing down his words. _It is supposed to remain intact and unharmed, as ripping it is considered a violation of the laws of nature._

_Blah blah, yeah okay,_ Harry thought. He skipped to the next part.

_While the human body relies on the soul to have their own unique mindsets, a torn soul is dependent on the item which encases it. That is to say, if a human dies, their soul would be able to move on beyond the Veil or return as a ghost, while if a Horcrux is destroyed, the soul within would die away and disappear. This seems different for the "main" portion of the soul that remains within the body…_

_I know all this, none of it matters,_ Harry thought with an inward skipped ahead a bit once more.

_Any portion of a soul that has been torn and stored away externally can gain a sense of sentience by sapping away the life-force of any person to come in possession of such an item, and in turn that portion of soul can gain a solid human form for itself…_

Harry stopped reading. _Like Ginny during second year,_ he thought. _Tom's Diary was sapping the life from her to regain its humanity. Can a soul do that if it doesn't have magic?_

"A piece of a soul that has been torn and stored away externally can gain sentience by sapping away the life-force of any person to come in possession of such an item and in turn that portion of soul can gain a solid human form for itself," Harry said to the quill behind him. He then continued reading.

_While a soul cannot live without a body, of sorts, it is possible for a body to live without any soul at all so long as their heart and brain are still functioning. However, without a soul, they are left in an incurable vegetative state — they have no awareness of themselves or the world around them. The soul cannot be recovered once it has been lost. This is a fate far worse than death._

Harry skimmed the remainder of the page, which began to explain the various influences of the soul on the mind and body of a wizard. He flipped through a few pages, each one continuing on the same subject. He supposed with a title like _The Oldest Magic: The Mind, Body, and Soul of Wizards_ that the topic likely spanned the rest of the book. He went to the end of the book, searching for an index. He had no such luck in finding one. Instead, he went to the bibliography, finding a few of the old horcrux books he had already read through, but nothing else of much merit. He set the book aside and moved onto the next book: _The Laws of the Soul_.

The beginning of the book was incredibly similar to the last he had just read, explaining the inner workings of the soul and the body. He supposed that made sense, considering the soul was complex and such background knowledge was a necessary foundation. He skipped ahead a bit, past where the book explained about the types of soul magic and which are harmful to, helpful to, or indifferent to the state of the soul as a whole. He picked up at the first real chapter afterwards, discussing the first "law" of the soul, since each chapter seemed to be a law.

_The Law of One Soul per Body_ , Harry read. _A single body usually cannot host more than one sentient soul without taking a heavy toll. Many wizards in the past have attempted to tie their soul or soul pieces to animal hosts. These animals had their lifespan drastically reduced. Human hosts, however, are more likely to last as a successful container, as they are able to apply measures to prevent their body from decaying/dying at a much more rapid pace. Wizarding hosts are preferable to muggle hosts, for their obvious ability to do magic and access to magical creatures. A typical remedy to a body holding more than one soul is drinking Unicorn blood to sustain the body's ailing health, although there are potions in existence which may mimic the temporary healing abilities of unicorn blood, since the death of a unicorn is thought to be a curse upon the murderer. More powerful types of soul magic may be used to placate the other soul(s) inhibiting the body so that one soul may have full control of it, though this type of magic is thought to harm the body even further._

_In recent years, dark wizards have found mysterious ways to manipulate soul magic beyond what was once thought possible, though they have not shared their secrets. These secrets hold the key to the breaking of the first and most important rule in this book. Without these secrets, any witch or wizard attempting to place a full soul into a body of any sort will find themselves reenacting the life—and death—of the greatest soul magician of all time. Sir Terrenford Stanley was born…_

Harry huffed. He thought he was getting somewhere with this book. He had a portion of some other soul inside his body that he needed to remove. It was possible the chapter discussed it after the story, right? He flipped a few pages ahead.

_Just after the spell was a success, Stanley recorded an odd feeling he felt in his head, as if he were about to-_

Harry skipped ahead further until his eyes caught the word "muggle" on a page he was about to pass.

_Of course, wizards like Mr. Doogle often find that there is so much about the soul the Wizarding world has yet to understand, and here is why: wizarding souls are still capable of magic; the simplest form of legilimency is possible between the souls of the wizard and soul of the host body. Muggles, on the other hand, would not be able to perform any such magic on the occation that wizards in the past turned muggles into horcruxes—and there have been plenty. For example, a wizard who placed a horcrux inside the muggle King of France, only to find that he was later beheaded during a revolution. The wizard has a telepathic link with that muggle. When wizards in the past turned themselves into horcruxes for muggles—which is a considerably smaller amount—they_ still _have a telepathic link with that muggle._

_In the case of Mr. Doogle, he found that he was able to communicate telepathically with the piece of his muggle wife's soul that he placed inside himself until the death of her body. Many suspected his wife of being a witch during her lifetime, but frequent testing revealed for certain that she was not. They also confirmed that Mr. Doogle was not the one performing the magic to be able to communicate with his wife. This is a phenomena many wizards have not been able to understand. If muggle souls are not capable of magic, let alone legilimency, how is it possible for them to have a magical telepathy with wizards? Is the soul magical in itself, no matter its host body? This question bring us to our next law: The Law of a Healthy, Stable Soul._

Harry sat back in his chair astounded. This book explained why he couldn't hear Tom in his mind anymore. He hadn't realized that Tom shouldn't have been able to communicate with him through their mind connection in the first place because he didn't have magic. Surely, Tom knew that, of course. Had he read this book? Or had it been one of the ones he owned but hadn't gotten to, yet?

He held a finger to the page he was on and closed the book around it to inspect the cover. The spine was slightly worn in the section he was at as well as a section towards the middle of the book. He assumed that meant Tom had that section open for a while if the book was new when he got it. It seemed to be written fairly recently, as opposed to some of the ones on horcruxes Harry had read.

Just as Harry had been about to open the book back up where he had left off, a thought occurred to him. There was a reason that other section was worn at the spine: it had also been read.

Harry flipped the pages, looking for the section worn at the spine. When he reached it, he began to read.

_The Law of Fixing a Damaged Soul. Of course, just as a soul is able to break, it is able to mend. Often, time and emotions are best to heal the soul, but magic can be helpful as a quick fix for small things. While the splitting of a soul is unable to be healed by magical means—only true remorse may heal it—something simple as magical over exhaustion is easily remedied by magic. However, it is not usually the magic itself doing the healing, but the magic prompting the body to heal itself. Healing of a soul is, as such, not possible if the soul is not connected to a body which may heal it._

_Many wizards have theorized that a body with multiple souls in it is under a great amount of stress in attempting to care for more than one soul at a time. Any other stress in the body may cause the souls to lash out, even if they have been placated. In muggles, this is usually causes symptoms of the muggle disorder schizophrenia, usually involving multiple voices present in the affected muggle's head, behavioral issues, inappropriate emotional responses, or delusions. In wizards, this may be unintended magic that affects their surroundings._

_Well that explains Gemini's magic_ , Harry thought. Thomas's potion, mixed with Amayra's, pushed all those souls into Gemini's body. Even if they weren't destroying his body normally, they took a toll on him when he was put under incredible emotional stress. It made sense.

"Multiple souls in the body of a wizard, page 54 of _The Laws of a Soul_ ," he said to the quill before he continued reading.

_No doubt, there are several forms of dark magic that attempt to heal one soul with another's—which I refuse to cover in this book. No matter how broken or damaged the soul is, the energy from a soul is the most powerful in the world, and would fix even the most mangled of messes. However, once the energy of a soul is used up, the soul dies, meaning the soul which did the healing is not able to recover. As such, proper wizards never use such methods, though proper methods will only heal souls which have been used properly. Once dark magic has touched a soul, proper methods will never quite do it well._

_This is it,_ Harry thought. _We need to heal his soul with another one._ Instead of feeling hopeful, as stomach grow heavy. Of course he had to kill someone else to bring Tom back. What had he been expecting? He sighed and closed the book.

"What's wrong, Mr. Potter?"

Harry met Gemini's eyes, whose amber eyes held much concern.

"I know how to bring Tom back," he said, "but it's not going to be pretty."

Gemini set down the book he had been skimming through, his eyes turning a deep brown, and his face seeming developing lines of age than should be possible for such a young child. "What is it?"

"Well," Harry began, "I know that I can't communicate with Tom's soul now because he doesn't have magic. There is still a piece of his soul inside me, but it's broken beyond normal repair. Because his soul isn't magic, it can't inhabit another body, which would be able to heal it. I suppose my body is up-keeping it, for now, but it is just a piece. For him to have a proper soul, it needs to be fixed. The best way to fix it completely is for it to drain another soul."

Gemini nodded, his expression surprisingly calm. Not at all the confused and/or saddened expression Harry had expected.

"So, are we going to take someone's soul, or are we going to let him be dead?" he asked quietly, his tone a bit deeper, more serious than Harry had ever heard it.

Harry, who was about to answer the latter, took a moment to really look at Gemini. His eyes were so dark brown, it was difficult to see if they weren't black. His face was hardened, his jaw strong and set. _He's ready to do it_ , Harry thought. _He would take a life for Tom_. Maybe Gemini would have reservations about taking the life of just anyone, but he would have no problems taking the soul of someone terrible, much like Tom had taken the life of that criminal to make the horcrux. He was surprised Gemini hadn't minded about who they had killed to do so, but he knew now, thanks to the lengthy explanation Harry had given to James. Maybe Gemini felt just as connected to Tom as Harry did. Enough to die for them. Enough to kill for them. It all felt the same, in the end.

"I don't know whose soul we would use," Harry replied softly. "Obviously we don't want to take just anyone's. The soul dies after we use it, and although the body doesn't die afterwards, it will want to."

"Does it have to be a human soul?" Gemini asked. "A wizard soul? Or is it possible to use an animal's soul?"

Harry thought a moment. "I would assume it had to be a human soul, otherwise fixing a soul would be easy. The soul gives the body a sense of self, so I assume using an animal's soul would break even more laws of nature than we have already. We don't want Tom to think he's a chicken, or something equally as horrid."

Gemini was quiet for a while, and so was Harry. He couldn't believe they were discussing this, but did they have a choice? They had to bring Tom back. It seemed like the only option in his heart. Who was Harry without Tom? One part of a two-part mind. Half a whole person. A body without a soul. And what was Tom without Harry?

_A father to be,_ he thought, looking at Gemini. _More knowledgeable and more real than anyone I've ever known._ _Someone with a past to overcome. Someone who died fighting a fight meant for Harry, who was too angry at the time to actually bring down Thomas himself. Really, he should be the one alive right now. Gemini needed him. But who needed Harry? Surely his days as a hero were numbered…_

"I'll give my soul," Harry said, barely a whisper.

For a moment, nothing was said, the air was quiet around them.

"What?" Gemini said loudly, his brown eyes lightening up to an orange.

"I said I'll give my soul," Harry said louder. He meant it. Guilt ate at him now, just as it had for every person who died before. Harry was responsible.

Gemini's eyes flashed bright yellow, then went back to orange. "That's what I thought you said. And no, no you won't."

Harry nodded. "Gemini, I'm not sure you understand bu-"

"No." Gemini stood from the table, shoulders straight and tense. "No. That isn't an option."

"It's for the best," Harry said, trying to argue, though his mind was already made up.

Gemini's orange eyes faded into red. "Would you let me give _my_ soul for Tom? No! So I won't let you give yours. You aren't dying, Mr. Potter." Gemini took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he opened his eyes, they were his normal color: one blue, one brown. "Besides, if we can't move Tom's soul out of your body, how are we to ensure that you don't die before Tom's fully heals? What would a piece of a soul do without a body?"

"Die," Harry answered.

"Exactly," Gemini replied. "It _has_ to be someone else. We're not risking killing both of you in one move."

Harry nodded. _Damn, that made sense_. Harry wasn't sure his option was best, anymore. In fact, it seemed _worse_. So if not Harry's soul, then whose?

"We should look for the spell to do it before we pick a soul," Harry said. "This book mentioned it, but didn't cover it wholly. It's likely in one of the dark arts books you have. These books seem to be focused on the theory of soul magic, not the practice of it."

"There was one in one of the horcrux books, wasn't there?" Gemini asked, picking up one of the many pieces of parchment Harry had notes on. He picked up a few more before he found what he was looking for. "Draining for a horcrux?"

Harry nodded. "Alright. Then I suppose we have more information than I thought." He sighed. He didn't want to take someone's life for this.

"Well then, what other notes do we have?" Gemini started glancing over pieces of parchment, though Harry wasn't sure of what he was looking for. "What've you found on souls? Knowing about how they work is probably good for this process."

Without thinking, Harry handed him the piece of parchment from the air, letting the quill fall to the table, splashing a bit of ink on it.

Gemini scanned over the page, his brows furrowing has he neared the end. "What does this bit about multiple souls have to do with Tom? You didn't put what it said, only how to find it."

"Oh, that's actually about you," Harry said, the words leaving his mouth before he had the thought of stopping them.

"About me?" Gemini asked.

The realization hit Harry hard, making him a bit dizzy. Was Gemini the answer?

"It, uh…" Harry looked away from Gemini to the floor. Surely it would be a bad idea, right? How could they differentiate the other souls from Gemini's? Especially if they had been turned into an extension of Gemini's magic after all these years?

"What about me?" Gemini asked again, eyes going yellow.

"The book-" Harry said, gesturing at the book on the table before him. Before he could say another word, it was in Gemini's hands.

Gemini flipped back whole chapters until he found the right page. He read for a while, and Harry watched as his eyes went from one side to the other calmly, but rapidly. Likely faster than Harry cold read. It was only when his eyes started getting brighter did Harry realize he had found the part.

Gemini set the book down carefully on the table, looking off into the air before him.

"The people Thomas killed…he took their souls. He gave those souls to my mother to try and fix her, but when she took that other potion…they went to me."

"The souls didn't die off. Your mother was still sick after taking the potions," Harry said softly, letting Gemini know what Thomas had told him and what he could guess from what he now knew about souls. "They must made the souls weak enough so that they blended into your mother's, but they were still there. After finding out what Thomas had been doing, he told us that she tried to kill him…maybe that was the magic from them, like the power you have. Thomas said it was supposed to kill you, too. Maybe the reversal potion she took…maybe her soul is in there with all the others."

The corners of Gemini's mouth turned down and his lips pressed together. Was he trying to hold it in? Harry wasn't sure because his bright blue eyes gave him away.

"She died for me…" Gemini said softly. "She gave me life and magic…until she herself was nothing…" He was quiet a moment, a silent tear falling down his face. "Like the Giving Tree."

Harry said nothing, worrying about Gemini's next line of thought.

After a long moment, Gemini nodded, though Harry wasn't sure of why.

"I won't die," he said. "I wanna give Tom one of the souls inside of me."


	37. For the Sake of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter has explicit content in the form of graphic descriptions of sex. Please, do not read past the double horizontal line if you do not wish to read it.

**Chapter 37: For the Sake of Love**

Several hours later, Harry had all he needed to do the soul draining except, of course, the desire to take even one soul out of Gemini's small and likely fragile body.

In his right hand, he held his wand. In his left, he held two glass bottles joined at the middle by a thin glass tube, together about the size of a pixie. On his face, he held a look of uncertainty and worry: brows furrowed with half conviction, mouth drawn into a thin line, eyes wide and stormy. He stood before a black cauldron—potion already brewing with only three choice ingredients missing—not sure what to expect. This could all go well, like they theorized it could. Otherwise, it could go terribly wrong, ending up with all three of them dead.

_Of course it was my idea_ , Harry thought. _It's a bloody awful idea._

Gemini stood on the other side of the cauldron, his face steeled but his eyes flashing colors like Harry had never seen. It was so sudden, it was hard for Harry to watch for more than a few seconds. Instead, Harry was staring into the bubbling contents of the cauldron, hoping he knew what he was getting them all into.

Harry took in a breath and released it shakily. "Are you ready to do this?" he asked Gemini, hoping the boy would voice the fears he undoubtedly had.

At last, his eyes darkened to a deep brown, its colored stilled, and he nodded.

"We don't have to do this, Gemini," Harry said, looking right into his eyes, sensing the hesitation in them. "We can do more research. Find out a better way."

"We've got everything ready," Gemini replied, voice steady and more confident than Harry's. "Everything we've read suggests this is going to work. There is no reason we shouldn't do this." Gemini took in a breath. "All we've got to do is wait."

Waiting. It was what they had been doing for the past few minutes, now, after finishing the preparations. Everything they needed for the potion—except that which was a part of Harry—was on a table to Harry's right. Everything they needed for the spell—except, again, that was a part of Harry or in his hands—was with Gemini: a vial of unicorn blood mixed with snake venom and a piece of parchment on which Gemini had written. The only other item they needed was a supervisor, someone who could watch the proceedings and ensure that nothing would go horribly wrong, or to at least let someone know that they were dead when it was over.

The longer Harry waited, the more he was sure said supervisor wouldn't show. They could do it alone, of course, but Harry's confidence was slipping. Having another wizard around who knew something of what they were doing made Harry feel more confident that he wouldn't be murdering an eleven-year-old student by trying to bring the man he loves back to life. Harry would never forgive himself for that.

Of course, it was the only thing on his mind.

"Any day now," Harry said impatiently. A part of him just wanted to get it over with, like it was a Band-Aid to pull off. Another part of him wanted nothing to do with it whatsoever. After some thinking, Harry knew which part was him and which part was left over from Tom's time in his mind.

"What do we do if he doesn't come?" Gemini asked.

"Well," Harry said, still looking for the answer. "Good question, honestly."

At that moment, there was a crack behind them.

"It wasn't a joke, then," the voice said as it drew nearer to them. Harry turned his head to find the platinum blonde hair, pale face, and grey-blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. "Why are you doing this? This is _dark magic_ , Potter." Harry's name came out of his mouth with a venom Harry could remember from times when they went to Hogwarts.

"We're not killing anyone. It's only dark magic because terrible wizards used it first," Harry said back, certain his voice had matched Draco's cool, haughty tone out of habit.

Draco scoffed. "Do you know who you sound like?" His eyes bore into Harry's, as if he would be able to drill into his brain with just his eyes. " _Voldemort_. He thought what he was doing was good. Did you know that? Did you know that Voldemort saw himself as a _great_ wizard who was doing the world a favor? He thought that dark magic was his best weapon because no one on the other side would dare to use it, for good reason. He called you all cowards for it."

"And maybe we were cowards," Harry bit back. "Maybe everyone on my side didn't use dark magic, but they were fine with manipulation, withholding information, putting a _god-damned_ child on the front lines to defeat a man with magic I could never hope to understand on his side-"

"Gemini is a child!" Draco interrupted. Harry continued anyway.

"But it's not about the 'light' or the 'dark' this time. It's about Tom, and it's about me, and it's about Gemini. We are not perfect, but _Merlin be fucked_ if we're not meant to be together on this bloody earth. Now, Tom _died_ for us, and I _will not_ let him stay dead because I was too angry to fight that bloody battle with Thomas."

The words cut into the air like saws, and Harry knew they were his. He had to do this now before he lost his nerve.

"Now watch us do these damned spells," Harry said at last, "and do your best to make sure we don't die."

Draco pressed his lips together but nodded.

Harry looked to Gemini, his eyes still dark brown and intelligent. He was as ready as he would ever be. _Let's give it a shot_ , he thought to himself.

Harry opened one end of the tiny glass bottle in his hand and placed his wand at the ready. _Just like you practiced_.

Harry began to chant, moving his wand in circles before Gemini's face. Harry could feel his magic working. The book had stated removing the soul was a complex process requiring concentration. Which meant that removing a soul from one with _more than several_ souls inside it was that much more so.

After a moment, Harry watched as Gemini's face and hair went pale. For a moment, the spell flickered as Harry stopped chanting. He quickly resumed, moving his wand slightly different than he had before. In a moment or two, Gemini's colored returned. Harry felt relief somewhere in the back of his mind, but ignored it. The spell required everything, so that's what he gave it.

For a long while, Harry was just chanting, moving his wand in the same motions again and again. The words began to sound odd to his mind, as if they weren't really the words he had started saying at all. Still, he continued on, feeling the seconds passing like grains of sand in an hourglass, turning into minutes. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes later, Gemini's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his mouth opened.

One silvery ball of light came out, its glow reaching out to Harry's wand. Harry continued to chant, pulling the ball closer to the bottle.

It was almost safely inside it when another ball, almost exactly like it, followed.

He only needed one. How did Harry stop this? Harry stopped chanting, fearful that the souls would keep coming. Simultaneously, Gemini snapped his mouth shut and the first soul landed in the bottle, leaving the second still floating in the air, unclaimed.

Harry reached out with the bottle and caught it, letting it fall into the open end of the bottle. At once, the two souls merged like liquid, creating a bigger ball of silvery light.

"Whatever potion it was that Thomas used…" Draco commented quietly, "it defies all soul magic I know."

Harry's eyes were on Gemini, waiting for his eyes to go back to normal. After a moment, the boy gasped and his eyes opened wide, revealing a vivid yellow.

"Oh thank Merlin," Harry muttered to himself.

Harry then swallowed. He quickly recorked the open side of the bottle and uncorked the other side. It was now his turn. Or rather, Tom's turn. This was the tricky part.

Harry pointed his wand at himself. According to their research, a soul draining could occur with the souls outside a body, as long as they were in horcruxes, since a soul piece would die if its host/object ceased to exist. Also according to their research, a horcrux could become uninhabited if the soul took on a new host in order to regain a 'main body', were its old one to die. Of course, their research didn't tell them anything about a wizard moving the soul piece from the horcrux to another object. Their research also didn't tell them whether the draining magic could be done outside the item that housed the souls, as it is typically done by one of the souls involved.

Harry began to chant again before he was quickly stopped.

"You're going to pull out your own soul." Draco said dully.

Harry stopped chanting and stared at him. "What?"

"Once you reach a certain part of the spell, you can't chant anymore, anyway," Draco said, ignoring the fact that Harry had said anything. "I'll do it."

Harry let his wand hand fall to his side.

"I'm practiced enough at this," Draco said, then muttered to himself something about rabbits. Harry honestly didn't care. He wanted this done.

Draco pulled out his wand and stared at Harry like a test subject. Then, the chanted words came from his mouth, sounding dark and brooding in his voice. _He learned from more than a book_ , Harry thought.

A few moments passed where Harry felt nothing. He was sure that something had already happened when he had done this to Gemini just a moment ago. What was taking so long? Was Draco doing something wrong? He was about to ask when he felt something tingle at the back of his mind.

Draco's chanting continued through bared teeth, becoming faster and fiercer. Was the soul piece stuck?

After a bit longer, Harry felt a blinding heat in his head. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his mouth fell open. He nearly dropped the bottles and his wand, but was able to think enough to tell his hands to grip them tighter.

The heat grew greater, moving from Harry's head to the back of his neck, to his jaw, and then his throat. By the time it reached his lips, the heat subsided.

Harry felt the heat fade away into a dull ache, and then a memory of a pain. Then, his lungs took charge, forcing air into his lungs and refilling his body with life.

Instead of gracefully returning to breathing normally, Harry sputtered and coughed.

"Sorry," Draco said. Harry realized he'd stopped chanting, but couldn't place when it had happened. "I had to take the last part pretty fast. It didn't want to leave."

Harry shook his head, calming his throat after a few seconds. He looked at the glass bottle, finding a thumbnail sized ball of silvery light in the opened side of the bottle. He quickly closed it and readied his wand.

This spell had no incantation or wand movement. There was simply the magic and the spilling of dark secrets. They hoped Gemini's would do, since the souls inside him had been part of him for a long while, but they couldn't be sure.

Harry nodded at Gemini. The boy looked to the paper and began to read.

"I truly believed no one would love me for over eleven and a half years," he said, his voice quiet and shaky. He had said before this all that he didn't mind sharing these details with Harry, but with Draco there, it felt invasive. Harry told him to pretend he wasn't there. Apparently that wasn't working.

Harry began the spell, doing his best to point his wand only at the small ball of silvery light. With no incantation or wand movement, it was difficult to tell, at first, if the spell was working. After a moment, could see the tiniest bit of light coming off the big ball in the other side of the bottle.

"I've always felt like a monster," Gemini continued. "Like I don't belong anywhere. The ladies at the orphanage told me that I didn't deserve a family or love. I grew up thinking I was going to spend eternity in Hell. Every Sunday in Church was Hell on Earth. The priest always looked at me with sad eyes when he told the congregation to come to confession. I never had anything to confess, of course, other than I had thought about killing myself, or running away. Anything that would save me the pain of having to stay where I was."

The stream was large now, engulfing the soul piece in more light. It hurt Harry's heart to hear these things, but he couldn't tell Gemini to stop. Not yet.

"Once, I lost my temper. I ran out of the house to the forest and the winds came. I didn't know that they were me, at the time, but I let them happen. When the ladies at the orphanage found me, they saw the slices in the trees and the dead birds that surrounded me. They thought it was an omen. That maybe the Devil himself had possessed me. They left me there until the priest arrived to perform an exorcism. That was when I woke up and told them I wasn't possessed. They never believed me. That was when they started calling me Satan behind my back. I believed them for a while. No one should be able to tear apart a forest like I did that day."

Harry watched the spell intently as the two souls began to grow dimmer and more transparent. _It won't be too long now,_ Harry thought.

"I never played with any of the kids at the orphanage since the ladies told them to avoid me. They did avoid me, mostly. They only time they spoke to me was to call me names, like Satan and Hellhound. One kid, though, Charlie, was almost thirteen when he came in. He told us all he knew about sex and his relationships with girls before his parents gave him up. He liked to tell me that I would die alone, never to have a girlfriend or wife. I hated him for a long time, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't want a girlfriend or wife. And I didn't want a boyfriend or husband or anything. I could imagine the most perfect person for me, my soulmate, but I couldn't imagine doing anything with them like Charlie had explained. I don't like people like that. I won't ever like people like that."

Harry watched at the large silvery ball seemed to fade into nothing, leaving one much brighter, much larger ball of silvery light left in the bottle. Harry stopped the spell.

"It worked," Harry told Gemini. "It's done."

Gemini let his hand holding the parchment fall to his side as he sighed deeply. His eyes a bright pink.

Draco had a smirk on his face. "It's called asexual," he said to Gemini. "You don't experience sexual attraction. If you also don't experience romantic attraction, that's aromantic. Keep that in mind."

In response, Gemini's cheeks grew a fierce pink to match his eyes.

Harry let himself half smile, too. He hadn't known that about Gemini. But he didn't have time to worry about it just yet.

"Let's continue," Harry said, his smile fading.

The pink faded from Gemini's eyes, but not his cheeks. His wand was at the ready.

Carefully, Harry opened the bottle once more. He held it upside down over the mouth of the cauldron until it fell into the depths of the churning potion inside. Quickly after, Gemini levitated the corpse on the table into the potion, as well. It bubbled and hissed before calming.

Harry set his wand on the table. He really hoped this would work.

"Bone of the father," Harry announced, picking up an incredibly old bone off the table with his hands. "Unwillingly given." He lit the bone on fire and quickly dropped it into the potion, causing it to sizzle once more.

Harry took in a deep breath. "Flesh of the servant," he said, holding his hand over the cauldron. "Willingly sacrificed." He picked up a knife and cut off a large chunk of the heel of his left palm as quickly as he could manage, letting it fall into the cauldron. Blood ran down his arm quickly and pain shot through his bones. He ignored it and went on, hugging the hand to his shirt to stop the bleeding.

"Blood of the enemy," Harry continued, picking up a small potions vial with a few flecks of Thomas' dried blood in it. _God, I hope this counts_ , he thought as he said, "Forcibly taken." He dropped the flecks in, and, sure enough, the potion came to a rolling boil.

Harry watched, feeling the warmth grow on his chest as the blood soaked into his shirt. He had really done this. This was dark magic and he had done it. All to see Tom alive again. _Merlin_ , he hoped he was really in love with this one. There was no turning back now.

From within the waters, a fire broke out. Harry, Gemini, and Draco all quickly stepped back as the cauldron caught the flames, being engulfed until there was nothing but a body in the air, holding out a hand above its smooth, bald head. Darkness circled around it, covering it gently, gracefully, until it revealed itself as black robes, covering the pale body of one Tom Riddle.

Tom's feet touched the ground, his back to them all, and hair sprung his head, a dark chestnut like before.

_Oh thank god,_ Harry thought. _I thought you'd be bald_.

No one replied, he realized. He was now alone in his mind.

The pale hand in the air gently lowered itself down to feel the silky hair on his head, joined shortly by the other. For a moment, he just relished in the feeling of touching his head. Then, he let his hand fall to his sides.

For a moment, no one said anything. Harry, Gemini, and Draco all stared at Tom, wondering about him. Was this the Tom they had known before, or a different one? He wasn't _Voldemort_ , was he? Surely he couldn't be.

After a moment of silence, a voice came: Tom's, crisp and clear as it had been before.

"I hope you realize what you've done," he said, mysteriously dark and deep.

Harry's breath hitched. He could remember a time when it would have been because of fear, but now, he felt the blood rush to his face and…well, probably his hand. He was losing a lot of blood. His mind was clouding over, but not enough so that he stopped watching Tom's new body.

"Who did you murder to use _this_ body?" Tom asked, turning around at last.

All his features were in the exact same place as they should be, from his smooth nose and chin to the curls at the front of his hair. The only thing that was different was when Harry looked into his eyes: bright crimson red, like blood.

Like the blood that stained Harry's shirt.

"Harry, you are bleeding," Tom said with concern, walking over to him immediately. "What happened?"

Harry pulled his hand from his shirt and let everyone look. Apparently, he'd cut more than just the heel of his palm. Not only could he see the bone, he had cut many of the blood vessels that were in his wrist. No wonder he was bleeding so much.

Draco pulled out his wand, but before he could, Tom took Harry's hand and held it in his own. For a moment, Harry just watched as the blood began to flow onto Tom's hand as well, but after a moment, he felt the cool tingle of a healing spell. When Tom released it, Harry's hand was just like new (with the exception of the blood that covered it and him).

Harry smiled large.

"Tom, your magic is back," he said, hoping it to be full of meaning. Rather, it came out as a lame statement of fact. Harry didn't care. Tom was back.

Without warning, Harry put his arms around Tom, pulling him into a strong hug, not caring how much blood he smeared on him or soaked him with.

Tom chuckled, letting the brass sound ring throughout the room. "This hug is much too warm," he said, mirth in his voice.

At once, Harry felt something push against his mind, somewhat invasive, but also slightly familiar. He let it in, feeling Tom's presence. It was not like what they used to have, but it was the next best thing. Harry found comfort in it all the same. He could finally relax.

Suddenly, there was another pair or arms squeezing at their waists. Harry and Tom looked down to smile as Gemini joined their hug.

Inside Harry's mind, Tom brought up a thought. Harry smiled and followed it, stretching his mind out to Gemini's.

Relief, like staring death in the face and escaping. Happiness, like finding a lost loved one. Fading fears that were too old for the circumstances. Hope taking its place. Harry could feel it all.

A large smile popped up on Gemini's face and he looked up at them with large tan eyes.

"I like hugs," he began. "But this is a bit messy." He stepped back, finding a few streaks of red on his clothes. "This is honestly kind of awkward."

Harry chuckled and pulled out his wand, performing a quick cleaning spell on them all.

"Better?" he asked Tom.

Tom smiled, revealing white teeth between his pink-tinted lips. "Yes. Thank you."

_True smiles,_ Harry thought. _I love how they look on you._

At that, Tom leaned in, closing the distance between their faces. Their noses brushed, and Harry could feel the tickle of Tom's breath down his neck. For a moment, Harry wasn't sure he was breathing himself, though he was sure the whole room knew his heart was beating like crazy.

With a lift of his chin, Tom pressed his lips against Harry's, soft and warm, like Harry's best dreams. A moment later (not long enough for Harry), Tom pulled away, his eyes moving gently below his lids, like he was dreaming, causing his lashes to flutter. Harry thought it was the most perfect thing in the world.

"Thank you," Tom whispered.

Harry let go of a breathy laugh. "I wasn't going to let you stay dead," he said, a small bit of accusation in his tone, washed out by the relief and love. "I nearly gave my own life for you. Gemini said it was a bad idea."

"Good," Tom said, putting a hand gently on the back of Gemini's head as they met one another's gaze. "Someone has to keep the idiotic Gryffindor in check."

Harry and Gemini laughed. _This is real_ , Harry thought. _This is Tom. God, I missed you._

Behind them, Draco cleared his throat.

Instantly, Tom released both Harry and Gemini, and they let him go, too.

"I'll…" Draco was staring at the floor, a soft pink blush on his cheeks. "I'll leave you to your reunion."

"Draco," Harry said as the blond man lifted his wand to disapparate. "Thank you so much for your help."

Draco nodded.

"Actually!" Harry called out quickly as a thought ran through his head. "I hate to ask, but could you do us another favor?"

Draco lowered his wand. Harry's smile faltered.

"Well, see, everyone thinks Tom is actually dead now. That's honestly for the best, I think, but Tom wants to adopt Gemini. Is there any way that…as someone who works in the Ministry of Magic…you could slip in some documents to give Tom a new identity?"

Draco pressed his lips together. His grey eyes glanced from Harry to Tom and then to Gemini. Harry searched his face for signs of his reaction, but found it perfectly poised: the Malfoy Mask.

"I suppose. Obviously he will need a new name," Draco stared pointedly at Tom.

Harry looked to Tom, for once seeing thoughts run across his face. After a few uncertain draws of his lips, Tom smiled.

"Samuel Tom Gaunt," he said at last. "I'll go by my middle name."

Draco nodded. "I'll get that done while the Ministry is still rebuilding. I doubt they'll notice something so small." He looked back to Tom. "But I suggest changing your eye color. And send _The Prophet_ the obituary you want in it…with a picture of a different person before they get their hands on a real one, Harry," his gaze flicked over to Harry, "and they'll put it in as fast as they can. Actually, they'll probably print anything you send them, so I'd take advantage of that."

Then with a turn and a crack, Draco was gone.

"Well," Harry said, his tone sarcastic and playful. He had other thoughts on his mind, which he knew Tom could see perfectly well. "I guess I better start writing that obituary."

"Obituary?" Tom said, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's what you meant?" His voice sounded genuine but his eyes looked suggestive.

Harry chuckled. "No, but I honestly should get it soon. _The Prophet_ isn't the type to lay around waiting."

Harry slipped his left hand into Tom's and held his right one out for Gemini, who took it gladly. Harry squeezed them both.

"We've got a lot of stuff to ready, too. School starts back up on Monday," he said. "I worked very hard to put together those lesson plans, and I'll be _damned_ if I'm not going to use them."

Gemini and Tom laughed and Harry joined in. It was good to feel at once like life was complete. Maybe he didn't have Tom's mind attached to his, but that wasn't what he fell in love with. It was simply what showed him everything he needed to fall in love.

And it was the best stupid thing he'd ever done in his life.

* * *

 

* * *

Harry walked through the door into his classroom, a smile on his face and a pep in his step.

"Sorry I'm…" Harry said, noticing the clock on the far wall. Had that always been there? Maybe he could vaguely remember it from before… "On time? Wow, I guess I'm not late after all."

His eyes scanned the beaming faces, all familiar, but one particularly so, with bright purple eyes and mousy brown hair.

"Today, I've been instructed to, first of all, welcome you all back to Hogwarts. I appreciate the fact that you all came back. Second of all, I have been instructed to answer all questions you have for me about the happenings of the past week. I'm sure you've heard some from your parents, but I'd like to put to rest all rumors before they start getting ridiculous. Anyone have any questions?"

Every hand went in the air except for one.

One by one, Harry answered questions about Thomas Gamp and Tom Riddle.

"Yes," he said after the fifth or sixth question, "they really are both dead. Thomas is buried in a graveyard in France with the rest of his family, and Tom in Little Hangleton graveyard beside his father."

Still, half the classroom had raised hands.

"Merlin," Harry said. "You've all got loads of questions. This lesson might have to be cut short today. Yes?"

"My mom told me there was a student at the battle against Thomas. Is that true?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, there was."

Chatter erupted in the room.

"Settle down," Harry said. "It wouldn't be the first time a student here has had a part in bringing down a dark wizard."

"Was it a Gryffindor?" one student shouted out.

"Was he a sixth of seventh year?" another yelled.

"Who said it was a _he_?" yet another cried.

Harry chuckled and held up his hands. "Yes! Alright! Calm down, and I'll tell you."

The frenzy faded into silence, watchful eyes, and listening ears.

"A student from Hogwarts was at the battle. No, it wasn't a Gryffindor, so don't think any of my children were there, no matter what they tell you. I know some of you have been saying that, as well." He eyed the room sternly. "The student is a boy who was very brave. However, he is in Ravenclaw, just like all of you."

The students gasped and muttered to one another for a moment. Harry met Gemini's gaze. In moments, he was inside Gemini's mind.

_Would you mind if I told them?_ Harry asked. _Once you're famous for defeating an evil, it never seems to go away. Even years after it's done._

Thoughts ran through Gemini's mind a moment.

_My name is already in the papers,_ he thought. _Might as well put a face to it_.

Harry pulled his mind back and waited a few more seconds for the students to calm.

"He was no sixth or seventh year. In fact, he is a first year. The most advanced first year I've ever seen." Harry smiled.

"Tell us!" one student said. All the others murmured their agreement.

"His name," Harry said at last, "is Gemini…" Harry smiled. "Gemini Swalton-Gaunt," he said a bit quieter.

A large smile grew on Gemini's face.

"Who's that?" one student in the back asked. A few students, more observant, were already staring at Gemini in the front row.

Harry gestured to Gemini with one hand. "Gemini, please stand."

The smile faded from Gemini's face as he stood on shaky knees. For a moment, there was no sound, everyone just stared at Gemini, disbelief on their faces.

"I'd like to award one hundred points to Ravenclaw for Gemini not only facing a dark wizard with incredible bravery, but also for proving indispensable to me in a time when I needed him most," Harry announced.

Cheers erupted then from the students. They stood from their chairs with glee, many of them reaching to pat Gemini on the back, offering him praise.

"Nice, Gemini!"

"Way to show those Gryffindors how it's done!"

"Brain over brawn!"

"Good work!"

The uncertain curl that was on Gemini's mouth grew back into a smile.

"Yes, yes," Harry said, trying to calm them once again. "You can all ask for his autograph _after_ class is over." He winked at Gemini. "For now, we've got a special lesson for you all."

Harry pulled out his wand and shot a spell at the door. It opened, revealing the deep burgundy robes of Tom.

"This is my good friend, Samuel Tom Gaunt. If you like, you can call him Mr. Gaunt…" Harry looked over at Tom, humor in his eyes, "or Mr. Tom. Maybe just Tom. Whatever you prefer."

Tom stepped into the room with poise and grace, an amused smile on his face which he tried—and failed—to hide.

"Yes, whatever you prefer, as long as you prefer Mr. Gaunt."

A few of the students chuckled softly. Most watched him curiously.

"Mr. Gaunt," Harry announced, "will be in from time to time to help me demonstrate certain types of magic, as well as offer expertise where I cannot."

"I have studied the dark arts for many years," Tom said. "Strictly theoretical and observational," he added, matter-of-fact. "I find that there are few things in the world that give me such pleasure as being able to predict the actions and motives of dark wizards."

"Since this is Defense Against the Dark Arts, Tom may now more about what we are defending ourselves against just as much, if not more, than I," Harry said. "Today, for example." Harry flicked his wand, and the chalk began to write on the blackboard. "Today's lesson is on the wand-lighting charm."

"This charm is excellent for repelling forces that require darkness," Tom explained. "These creatures include Gyntrash and malevolent spirits. Now, Gyntrash, which I am incredibly familiar with, are white spirits who appear like dogs or wolves with forked tails. Their bites are vicious. A few will be enough to kill a child. They travel in packs, invisible to their prey until they are but a few feet away. It is at this point where protection comes into play."

Harry smiled a moment before continued explaining to the students. "A dim wand-lighting charm will keep them at bay, and a fully lit one will likely dispel them. It's a simple enough spell. The incantation is 'Lumos.' What you all may find causing you difficulty is the wand movement."

The chalk drew the pathway on the board: a loop that looked like a cursive, lower-case L.

"As I understand, the wand movements you have learned so far have been fairly simple up to this point. This one is not _too_ difficult, but it is different. Everyone try it. Do the wand movement, and right at the top of the loop, say _Lumos_."

Wands went up in the air and voices began to speak the same word over and over. He watched as students tried, some getting flickering lights, others incredibly dim ones. Harry noticed that the first time Gemini tried, he got a bright, white light emitting from his wand tip.

_A natural_ , Harry thought.

After a moment, Harry went around the room, helping various students who were having trouble with the spell. With a sly smile, Tom went over to Gemini.

"I notice you are having some difficulty casting this spell," Tom stated ironically. "If you would like, I have some notes here for you to look at," Tom pulled out a few manila-colored papers from his pocket and passed them over Gemini's desk. "Notes which, I know for a fact, Harry has already spoiled."

Gemini carefully unfolded the papers, noticing they were not stapled together. He smoothed them out on his desk, reading the words _Adoption Processing Form_ at the top. The rest of the form was filled out in faded, grey lettering: a carbon copy.

"You've finished already?" Gemini asked, tone incredulous and bright purple eyes going tan.

"I did just this morning," Tom answered. "While you ate, no doubt, a delicious breakfast, I spent a good half hour convincing the ladies at your orphanage that I wanted to adopt you, and yet another half hour filling out the paperwork." Tom's mouth drew up into a wicked smirk. "I may or may not have flashed my red eyes at Miss Marbury when she called you a name."

Gemini giggled. "That's terrible. She probably thinks a demon adopted me."

Tom shrugged. "She can think what she desires," he replied easily. "She was the real demon."

Gemini just smiled up at Tom, eyes large and filled with admiration. Tom felt his heart spill over with affection.

"Well, I need those back now," Tom said softly, picking the paper gently from the desk and refolding it, "as of right now, this is the only proof we have. A certificate will be in the mail in a week or two, I'm sure. Until then." He placed the papers back into his pocket.

Gemini watched for a moment as Tom walked to a student a few rows behind Gemini to help him with the spell, then swiveled his head around back to the front of the room. He just stared at the air before him, a goofy grin on his face.

He couldn't believe this was real.

"Gemini," a girl beside him asked, a light pink just barely gracing over her cheeks.

Gemini snapped out of his trance to look at her. She had dark eyes, almost black, with tan skin underlined with a hint of yellow. Her hair was chin-length and spiked at the ends, filled with so many bright colors, from sunset orange to spring grass green to rich lavender. Gemini wondered how he had ever missed seeing her before, as her hair alone could be seen across a field.

"You got the spell, right?" she asked, uncertain. "Could you help me? It looks like Mr. Potter and Mr. Gaunt have their hands full."

Gemini nodded and smiled politely. "Sure."

"Alright," she said, sitting up straight in her chair and readying her wand. "So, the theory is that we do the wand movement, which looks very much like a loop, and in the middle of it, we say the incantation. _Lumos_ ," she cast, getting just barely a flicker of dull light from her wand tip.

Gemini nodded. "Okay. You're doing everything right, as far as the theory goes. What you need to add is magic. Give the spell more power. Don't be afraid to cast it."

The girl nodded, taking her gaze away from Gemini and staring once more at her wand, eyes narrowed slightly. " _Lumos_!"

A blinding scarlet light came from her wand, causing her and Gemini to close and turn away their eyes. A few students behind them uttered complaints, dropping their wands in surprise. After a few seconds, it faded.

Gemini let out a soft laugh. "Maybe that was a bit too much."

The girl laughed too. "Just a smidge."

"Too much power, Amaryllis," Harry called out from the back of the room. "But I assure you that you are more than ready for other spells."

Gemini and Amaryllis laughed together again.

"Amaryllis?" he asked.

She nodded, lips curling out. "Not very fond of it. My parents call me Am. I think that's much better. Less flowery."

"Am," Gemini said with a nod. "I think it suits you."

Am smiled. "Thanks. I think so too."

She must have noticed Gemini staring at her hair, because she began to run her hands through it, showing off all the colors.

"You like it?" she asked. "I had it done by a witch at some salon my parents took me to. They wanted me to get some curls, but I got colors."

Gemini's eyes must have changed because Am's confident appearance changed. Her eyes studied his, making Gemini just the slightest bit uncomfortable. He'd never get used to the scrutiny.

"I know a bit about colors," he joked half-heartedly.

" _Where_ ," Am began, a smile growing on her face, "can I get contacts like that?"

"Well, I'm not sure," Gemini replied. "These are just my eyes."

"Wicked," she said.

Gemini was sure his eyes would change again as he felt the warmth of blood rushing to his face.

Before he could reply, Harry announced, "Excellent! All of you! Not bad for your first day back."

Harry and Tom came back to the front of the room. Harry looked around the room, meeting the eyes of his students for seconds at a time.

"I'm really proud of you all. Keep up the good work. I'll see you all on Thursday."

Harry watched as they all filed out of the room, chatting amongst themselves. He waited until they were all gone, to glare at Tom through narrowed eyes.

"You were late," he accused. "And _I_ was nearly late waiting for you."

"I apologize, Love," Tom purred, pulling Harry to him by the waist. He put his mouth close to Harry's ear and whispered, "I was rather busy taking care of those papers."

A chill ran up Harry's spine before he pushed out of Tom's grip with a laugh. "My next class will be on their way shortly. We've got to be _professional_."

Tom flashed a charming smile at him. "I have absolutely no idea to what you are referring," Tom said innocently. "Samuel Tom Gaunt is the _pinnacle_ of professionalism, Mr. Potter, sir."

Harry laughed once more as his first students for his next class entered the room. He pointed a finger at Tom.

"I'll deal with you later."

Tom feigned offense, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I have done no wrongdoing."

Still glaring playfully at Tom, Harry waved his wand and the board erased itself.

"Later," Harry promised as more students filed into the room.

Harry checked the clock. Right on time.

"Students!" he announced with a smile on his face. "Welcome back!"

As Harry looked out, smiling faces stared back at him. This was everything he had ever wanted. He had a job he loved, people he cared about, and people who cared about him—the real him, not just the hero. And best of all, he was truly happy.

He couldn't believe it was real.

The day was long, but Harry had hardly noticed. He was thrilled to see all of his students once more to teach them what he knew best, see all his friends who were professors, and just enjoy everything Hogwarts was. Before he even realized the day was passing, dinner was over and he was walking back to his room alone.

Padma hadn't officially hired Tom yet, but she had allowed him to help Harry teach. For now, she wanted Harry focused on the story of what happened, ensuring they all had it correct. She knew what happened when rumors grew nasty, and didn't want any of that happening to Harry, Gemini, or (especially) Tom. Harry couldn't agree more. There were many things he knew such rumors would ruin. He liked this job, and never wanted to lose it. And he loved Tom, so of course he didn't want to lose him, either. He was his life. Most importantly, Tom had revealed something to Harry.

Once Tom was hired at Hogwarts, the curse on the teaching post would be gone for good.

But until Tom was hired, he still returned to his own home, unable to stay at Hogwarts, nor did he get a seat at the professors' table at dinner. Tom had gone home, and now Harry was missing him.

With a sigh, Harry unlocked his door and stepped into its darkness. When he turned the light on, he jumped at the body lying on his bed.

" _Merlin_ , Tom!" he exclaimed, pressing a hand to his booming heart. "You scared the shit out of me."

Tom smiled charmingly. "I do apologize. I just figured you wanted to keep true to your promise."

Harry's heart calmed a bit, though his brows joined together. "Promise?" he asked, walking across the room to set down his papers on the table.

"Yes," Tom purred, getting off the bed to stand behind Harry and nuzzle his nose into his neck. "Your promise that you would _deal with me_ later."

Harry let out a quick breath, a shiver running down his spine. "You mean scold you for being late to the first class of the day?"

Tom hummed lowly, sending vibrations into Harry's back. "I thought it was a euphemism."

A breathy laugh erupted from Harry's lips. "Is that so?"

Tom pressed kisses down Harry's neck and shoulder, not bothering to answer the question. Harry's breath hitched underneath him, and Tom knew he was doing it right.

Harry spun around to face Tom, their noses just barely touching.

"I ought to teach you a lesson or two about euphemisms," Harry said softly.

Tom grinned. "Please, do."

Harry grabbed the front of Tom's shirt and pulled him forward, locking their lips together. After a moment of tender pressure, Harry's lips moved to allow his tongue to move past them to Tom's lips. He licked at them once before Tom opened his lips, allowing him entry.

Without warning, Harry's mind pressed into Tom's. Without hesitation, Tom allowed him in.

_You taste like mint and chocolate,_ Harry thought, his tongue exploring the details of Tom's mouth.

_I ate mint candies before I came_ , Tom thought, his tongue pressing against Harry's to get into Harry's mouth. There, they battled for a moment before Harry allowed him entry.

_You taste like wine_ , Tom thought. _Wine and Harry._

Harry hummed into Tom's mouth. _What exactly is Harry as a taste?_

Tom pulled his mouth from Harry's and pulled him around enough to push him down on the bed.

"I intend to find out."

Tom easily pulled off Harry's robes and shirt, tossing them on the ground. He climbed on top of Harry, pressing kisses along his collarbone to his chest.

Beneath him, Harry's pulse danced and his eyelashes fluttered over his closed eyes. He felt every touch of Tom: the grace of Tom's lips on his chest, the pressure of Tom's thighs on his legs, the feeling of Tom's ass. Everything was Tom. Harry marveled in how new it was, and how exciting and good it felt.

Tom's kisses continued down Harry's chest to his stomach, much more sensitive. Every few kisses, a rogue eyelash would tickle Harry, and he would tense and let out a breath.

_Are you doing that on purpose?_ Harry thought.

Tom did not respond, but continued on, trailing his kisses until he reached the hem of Harry's pants.

_May I?_ Tom thought.

Harry nodded, a blush overcoming his cheeks. This wasn't his first time, so why did it feel like it was?

Tom carefully unbuttoned Harry's bottoms and pulled them off, revealing his hardening prick. With gentle fingers, Tom caressed it, the teasing touch making it harden more.

_Merlin yes_ , Harry thought. _More_.

Suddenly, Harry's prick was in Tom's mouth, feeling his tongue lick at the shaft. Harry let out a gasp. Tom pulled his mouth off just enough to lick at the head and glands, making Harry quiver with pleasure. Tom repeated the motion, taking it all in his mouth and then licking the head.

_Yes_ , was the only thing Harry could manage to think. _Yes._

Once again, Tom took all of Harry's prick into his mouth and pulling back, this time pushing back on just as quickly. He started a rhythm that had Harry's hips bucking, every movement of Tom driving Harry wild.

He'd never done this before. How could he be so _goddamned_ perfect already?

Tom hummed, his lips still firmly around Harry's cock, in response, eliciting a moan and a curse from Harry.

_You are an_ excellent _teacher,_ Tom thought.

_Merlin_ , Tom's voice in his head was _damn sexy_. Deep and rich, like the wine he'd had with dinner.

Harry's fingers wove into Tom's hair, gripping at the curls. Harry wanted to finish now. He was getting pretty close.

Tom's hands removed Harry's from gripping his hair so Tom could fully pull his mouth off Harry, leaving him cold and wanting.

Tom leaned forward to whisper, "Not yet," into Harry's ear.

Suddenly, a bottle of lube was in Tom's hands. This _was_ new.

"Is this okay, Harry?" Tom whispered again, the air tickling at Harry's neck and making him shiver.

"Is what okay?" he asked. He wasn't sure where Tom wanted to go with this. He hadn't ever thought about sex like this before.

_I want you inside me_ , Tom thought. _Please, Harry_.

That _voice._ Harry was sure he'd never been this hard before. He wanted Tom more than anything.

"Yes," Harry said at last. "A thousand times yes."

At that, Tom squeezed some lube out of the bottle and covered Harry's cock in it.

_Wait, don't you need to…like…_ Harry's thoughts lagged at the feel of Tom's hand pleasuring him… _stretch?_

Tom kissed Harry's cheek. _I came prepared_.

Squeezing more lube out, Tom closed the bottle and tossed it to the floor. He pressed a finger around and inside himself. Harry felt the breach in Tom's mind, sensing the need and desire around it. The feeling only turned Harry on more.

Tom removed the finger and used that hand to guide Harry's cock, lifting himself until, at last, he pressed Harry into him.

" _Fuck,"_ Harry groaned. Not only could he feel the tightness of Tom around him, but how the pressure of his cock felt to Tom. It was like fucking and being fucked at the same time: twice the agonizing pleasure. Tom slowly lifted himself again only to press down, taking in Harry's length to the very bottom. Harry cursed again as Tom released a moan. How did anyone do it any other way when this existed?

Tom lifted himself once again and pressed down, faster this time working up a rhythm. His fingers grabbed at Harry's arms, nails pressing in hard. "Oh Harry," he whispered into Harry's ear.

Eyes closed again, Harry let himself feel it all: the burning heat building where their bodies met, the stickiness of Tom's leaking cock pressed between their stomachs, the soft whispers and moans of his name coming from Tom's lips. This was it. The peak of their connection. They were one body.

Harry wanted it to last, but found himself drawing closer with every frenzied breath, every agonizingly slow press of Tom's hips downward. He wanted it to last, but he also wanted nothing more than to feel the electricity of their bodies clashing to a thunderous finish. _Yes_ , he wanted that more.

Sensing his thoughts, Tom removed himself from Harry and laid on his back beside him.

Harry stood, hoisting one of Tom's long, slim legs onto his shoulder.

_Is it time for that scolding_? Tom teased.

Harry grinned, sweat brimming at his hairline. Letting his actions answer for him, he pressed into Tom, letting a loud, unstoppable moan pass from his lips.

He pressed in again, hitting Tom's prostate as Tom squeezed, both of them feeling the unnamable bliss in their groins.

"Harry," Tom moaned. " _God_ Harry."

Harry held hard onto Tom's hips and continued pushing into Tom, faster and harder, trying with every bit of his being not to come just yet. This was heaven. Nothing but incredible pleasure as their muscles contracted and beads of sweat broke out across their skin.

A couple more thrusts and Harry couldn't take it anymore. Tom's fingers clutched onto the bedsheets hard as they both came rushing to orgasm, vision going white and starry as their bodies released at last.

Harry pulled himself out of Tom and let his wobbly knees rest as he collapsed on the bed next to him. Every pore in his skin was sensitive, feeling the sheets beneath him and the cold air brushing over him gently. His body was exhausted. He was a mess. A huge, beyond-satisfied mess.

With what little effort he had left, Harry extended his arm beneath Tom to pull him close. Tom turned toward him and nuzzled his face into the crook of Harry's neck. This was Tom and Harry, connected in every way: mind, body, and soul.

Harry grinned. _I hope you learned your lesson_.


	38. Epilogue

The day of October twenty-fifth: a very important day. Outside, the greenery was peppered with oranges, yellows, and auburns of leaves that had fallen from the once full trees that gave them life. Inside, Harry ran about, searching frantically. His breath was quick and shallow with fear.

"Tom!" he called out, running across the room. His heart boomed in his chest and rang in his ears. "Tom!"

Tom burst into the room, eyes concerned and wand in hand.

"What? Harry, what is going on?"

Harry stopped searching and bit his lip a moment before confessing.

"I lost it."

Tom's wand hand fell to his side and his red eyes narrowed with irritation. "What do you mean you _lost it_?"

Harry held his hands to hover just in front of his temples, fingers tensed straight. "I mean we've put too many hiding spells on it. I can't find it!"

Tom growled. "We did _not_ put too many spells on it. We only put on two."

"Two?" Harry asked, confused. "I put on four."

"You?" Tom asked, confused even further. " _I_ put on two."

Harry groaned, running his hands over his face. "So there are _six_ hiding spells on it?" His eyes fell pleadingly onto the ceiling. " _Why_ did you put on spells at all? You told _me_ to do the spells."

"No," Tom corrected sternly, his wand out, performing various enchantments before him in the hopes the item they were searching for would miraculously reveal itself. "I stated that _I_ would place the charms on it so _you_ did not."

"What?" Harry shouted, arms in front of him with his hands balling into fists. "That's _not at all_ what you said!"

Tom sighed. "Aura!"

In a moment, Tom's newly created winds lazily strolled into the room. If his magical winds were pets, Boreas would have been a playful dog while Aura was a semi-aware, spoiled cat. Tom was not amused.

"Aura," he began patiently, "could you find the package for us? It is under a few too many concealment charms."

The winds spun around Tom at a moderate speed, settling on the ground at Tom's feet.

Tom's face went red around the ears and neck. "YOU USELESS PIECE OF-"

"TOM!" Harry screamed back. "Don't yell at Aura! She's doing her best. She probably doesn't know where it is, either."

Tom huffed. "Who said Aura was female?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, Aura sounded like a good name for a girl…"

"Harry." Tom's voice was suddenly gritty, as if he had grown tired. "Aura is winds magically enhanced to be sentient enough to fetch. They are not a gender."

"We don't have _time_ to debate gender," Harry announced, flicking his wand every which way around himself, attempting to undo the concealment charms from where he stood. "We need to find this _ASAP_. Help me."

With another sigh, Tom joined Harry in undoing the concealment charms he had placed on it.

" _THERE!"_ Harry yelled suddenly. " _Accio package_!"

A package flew into Harry's hands, carefully wrapped in silvery paper covered in opalescent specks, shining every color imaginable depending on how the light caught it. On top was a precisely-tied bow made of charcoal-colored ribbon, a small card attached that read "To Gemini, From Harry and Tom."

Harry smiled down at it. "Tom, I still can't believe how perfect it turned out. Just look at it."

Tom glanced at the present for a moment, but took to staring instead at Harry. Every single time Harry had looked at the present since wrapping it, without fail, his peridot eyes grew wide with wonder and pride. Tom couldn't help but admire the look on the face of his love when it appeared.

"You are infinitely adorable," Tom said, a soft smile on his mouth.

Harry scoffed. "You didn't even _look_ , did you?" he joked.

Harry held the present out to the side as he pulled Tom's chin towards his. Their lips met briefly, still as tender and caring as the second time (since the first time was frustrated and one-sided; Harry doesn't like to count the first time, but Tom does).

With a smile, Harry looked into Tom's Merlot-colored eyes, their faces inches apart.

"I love you, Tom," he said gently.

"I love you, too, Harry," Tom answered.

"Now," Harry stated, smile growing as he stepped away from Tom playfully. "We've got _an event_!"

"Yes, we do," Tom said. "I'll go pick up the guest of honor." Tom pulled out his wand and was gone with a crack.

Harry dashed from their bedroom to the library, eyes wide and glimmering with mirth at the decorations.

Rainbow ribbons hung along the black crown molding in stark contrast. Silvery bands of light danced on the bright crimson walls. In the center of the room was a long mahogany table with cushioned black chairs around it, awaiting the group. A bouquet of various fruits, trimmed to look like flowers, sat in the middle of the table, appearing almost like real flowers from where Harry stood. The fireplace was lit with a crackling blue fire, keeping the room a bit cooler than normal to compensate for the body heat that would soon be in it. The black glass of the chandelier sparkled from the glittery banner that floated just below it, reading _Happy 12_ _th_ _Birthday Gemini_.

It was almost ready.

Harry levitated his gift off to the small table by the fireplace and walked out to the hallway.

In the main room was family and friends. Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Luna, and Luna's husband Rolf chatted lively to Draco's wife Astoria and Percy's wife Audrey by the front door. In the dining area, Neville, Hannah, Theodore, and Fleur were playing cards.

"Ah!" Fleur exclaimed, setting down her cards before her for all to see. "I win!"

Theo groaned. "That's the third time. I'm not gonna have any sickles left at the end of this." He turned his head to see Harry standing at the mouth of the hallway. "Oh thank Merlin. My wallet is saved."

"I found it!" he announced to everyone, mentally doing a head count. "Where's everyone else?"

"I'm afraid most of the Weasley family is outside playing Quidditch, dear," Mrs. Weasley answered.

"Draco, too," Astoria added, glancing out the window that, five weeks ago, had not existed. "Unfortunately, Ginny is scoring past him because his reflexes are slowed." She grinned. "Or maybe she still has her youth after all these years. What's her secret?" Her gaze flicked back to Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, she's fiery, that one," Mrs. Weasley said. "Just like her mum. If not more so."

Hermione nodded her agreement.

Harry stepped further into the room to be able to see out the window. Sure enough, he saw many bodies topped with red hair, one with black hair, and one with platinum blond hair, flying around on brooms.

"Bill's team has one hundred points," Luna said dreamily. "Percy's only has forty."

"That's because Percy's playing chaser," Hermione said, her tone apologetic.

Harry chuckled. "Well tell them Bill's teams wins. Tom is on his way with the kids."

Astoria opened the door, shouting outside at them, "Bill's team wins! Time to come inside!"

Harry could hear the cheers and groans from the players as they landed, stacking their brooms one by one in the corner.

"Tom's lawn is wicked good for quidditch, mate," Ron called to Harry, bright-faced and grinning.

Ginny came up and clapped Ron on the back. "Almost perfect, actually," she added. "All it's missing is stands for the spectators. Wonderful game."

"Easy for you to say," George said begrudgingly, walking through the door with the box of quidditch balls in his hands. "You weren't pulling the weight of your team."

"You weren't pulling the weight of your team, either," Angelina called out, walking up behind him with a smirk. "I was."

George smiled back at her. "Yes, the Weasley men are losing their touch."

"Speak for yourself," Bill said as he entered with Charlie, arm around thrown around his brother's shoulders.

"They practically cheated," Draco said behind them. "Their goal hoop was smaller than ours."

"I don't know _what_ you're talking about," Ginny replied, a wicked smile tossed at Ron.

"Alright, alright," Harry said, as if calming a rowdy classroom of students. "Put your brooms up. We've got to hide them before Gemini gets here."

Draco, Charlie, and Bill added their brooms to the pile. Bill cast a quick concealment charm over them and grinned. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan is go to the library and don't say anything until I open the door," Harry answered, his hands making a brushing motion towards the hallway. "Come on, everyone. Quickly."

Everyone in the room stood and crowded their way into the hallway, eventually funneling in through the library door, shutting it after them.

Harry sighed. He hoped Gemini would like this.

Harry walked outside the front door, looking out at the hedges that decorated the lawn. He transfigured the leafy quidditch hoops back into the grand, hedgy trees they were before.

With a crack, Tom appeared, a classroom's worth of students in tow: Gemini, Lily, Albus, James, Am, Scorpius, Rose, Hugo, Victore, Dominique, Louis, Teddy, Fred II, Molly II, Lucy, Lorcan, Lysander, Tyler, Shawn, and Albus's roommates Tony, and Edmund and Peter. Harry looked over to them, feigning confusion.

"Oh, hello," he said, brows furrowing. "What's everyone doing here?"

Tom shrugged, the ever slightest smirk pulling at one corner of his lips. "Gemini insisted on having them over for dinner."

Gemini's one-blue-one-brown eyes turned a bright pink. "It's nothing…just thought it'd be fun."

Harry smiled. "Alright, well, I'll have to get some more food, then. But first, let me show you all something. It's for a special occasion." Harry gestured for them to follow him. This was the part not even Tom knew about.

"Special occasion?" Gemini asked, eyes getting even brighter.

"Yes," Harry answered. "Six weeks ago, I was connected to the man of my dreams…" Harry turned to smirk at Tom, who wore a real look of confusion on his face. "I thought that deserved some celebration."

Harry stopped before a blank area of grass and smiled, tapping his wand ever so lightly on what seemed to be solid air. The group watched in amazement as a boa constrictor-sized snake appeared before them, definite tones of deep green on its shimmering, scaly skin with just a plume of red at the top.

"Surprise!" Harry yelled, gesturing to the animal before them.

Tom's mouth hung open for a moment before realization dawned on his face. "A snake? For me?"

"Her name is Stheno," Harry said. "She's three-quarters basilisk, which means she got the venom and the coloring, but not the death eyes."

Tom smiled at the snake. Harry and the others listened as he spoke to it in parseltongue. The snake hissed back a moment and tears sprung in Tom's eyes.

"This is completely unexpected." His soft red eyes looked to Harry. "Thank you, Love."

Harry smiled. "Of course. I must warn you, though. She thinks she's a coral snake."

Tom chuckled. He hissed at her and Stheno came slithering towards him, raising her head off the ground and wrapping herself onto Tom's arm to hoist herself over his shoulders.

"Oh, she's beautiful," Tom stated. "And so young. Remarkable."

"I'm glad you like her," Harry said, smirking. He glanced at the children, all closely clustered together with wide eyes and uneasy smiles. "Shall we go inside, then?"

All at once, the children nodded. Harry chuckled. "Alright. Well, the dining room isn't going to be enough for all of us, so I'll set up a table in the library."

"Oh, Mr. Potter, you don't have to do that," Gemini said, eyes now yellow.

Harry looked back to him. "What? You want me to tell my children to eat on the floor?" He winked at Lily, who hid a smile poorly. "It's no problem Gemini."

The group walked through the house into the hallway. Harry stopped just before the doorway to the library, a smirk on his face and his hand on the doorknob. _This is it_ , he thought.

Harry pushed open the door and quickly stepped inside so Gemini could get a good look at the room.

"Surprise!" everyone inside cheered, smiles on their faces.

Harry watched as Gemini's yellow eyes turned bright green.

"I thought you all had forgotten!" he suddenly cried out, eyes wide with amazement.

"We would _never_ ," Tom said from somewhere in the hallway, still blocked by the many, many, _many_ children stuck in the hallway. "Now, may we please all go inside the room? It is a bit cramped in the hallway, especially with a giant snake over one's shoulders."

Gemini ran into the room excitedly, the others following at a more moderate pace. Gemini stopped before the table where the bouquet of fruit stood and let his eyes roam over the room, from the colorful bouquet, to the multi-colored and sparkling decorations, to the table now so over stacked with presents, there were many sitting on the chair beside it.

"Are those all for me?" Gemini asked in disbelief.

"Of course, they are, Gemmy, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "We wouldn't let your birthday go without presents."

"As for dinner," Harry announced. "Soran!"

A house elf popped into the room, a nice knitted sweater on his back and fuzzy socks on his feet (a mixture of Hermione and Mrs. Weasley's work). "What will Harry Potter be needing?"

"Could you help me bring the food in here?" he asked.

"Soran's got it covered!" the elf squeaked. He snapped his fingers and plates filled with eggs, hashbrowns, toast, and ham appeared, dropping down carefully onto each place setting. Beside each plate was a glass filled with pale yellow liquid: homemade lemonade made by Lily, Albus, and James—taste tested, of course, by Harry. It was every bit as good as if Harry had made it himself.

"Let's eat!" Harry announced.

Everyone made their way to the table, chatting and smiling, wishing Gemini a happy birthday no matter where they sat at the table. At one end, Gemini sat surrounded by his friends, who laughed and shared that they knew about the surprise. Harry watched as Gemini chatted back, a smile stuck on his face and eyes bright purple.

"Look how happy he is, Tom," Harry said softly at the other end of the table.

Tom took a bite of eggs and hummed. "Taste these eggs, Darling. They are marvelous."

Harry chuckled and looked to Tom. "You _know_ I made them. You watched me make them."

Tom smiled and took another bite. "That doesn't discredit my comment," he said after he finished chewing.

Harry shook his head and began to eat.

"I don't think Scorpius is enjoying himself at all," Draco said beside Harry. "He doesn't know anyone here besides his mum and I."

Harry smirked. "I've got it on good authority that he is well acquainted with my children."

Draco's brows drew together. "Are they friends?"

Harry shrugged, still smirking. "I suppose they are."

Draco's face dropped all confusion for a look of suspicion. "Potter, what are you hiding?"

Harry opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but Tom spoke before he could.

"Harry's youngest son has a crush on him," he stated matter-of-fact.

Harry's mouth opened wider as he turned to hit Tom lightly (ish) on the shoulder. "Tom!" he scolded. "That was a secret."

"One which you yourself could not keep," Tom countered.

"Well, it's hard to keep secrets when a _certain wizard_ is always poking around my mind." Harry crossed his arms.

Draco's confused face was back. "What?" he asked.

Harry sighed, dropping his arms. "Albus has a crush on Scorpius. He told me and his mom when he came out to us."

Draco huffed. "That's funny. All Scorpius talks about is how he hates Albus, and how he walks around like her owns the place. It seems there isn't one moment of the day that isn't filled with him discussing Albus…" Draco's eyes narrowed a moment in thought. Harry watched as understanding came onto his face. "I see…"

Harry laughed in surprise. "Well, guess we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other in the future, then."

"I must have a talk with my son," Draco muttered to himself as he stood and left.

Harry and Tom watched with concern, but Astoria just chuckled.

"Draco is such a concerned father," she explained. "He feels like he needs to know everything about him, but Scorpius just needs his space."

They three watched as Draco whispered something into Scorpius' ear. Scorpius turned to look at his father in confusion.

Astoria sighed and stood, walking over to Draco and patting him on the back, saying words Harry could not hear. Eventually, Draco nodded and let Scorpius return to eating and watching the others chat.

Dinner went by quickly, then, and soon everyone was sitting back with empty plates.

"Gemini!" Harry called out, making his way over to him. "Do you want presents or dessert first?"

Gemini's eyes widened. "There's dessert?"

Tom chuckled from behind Harry. "What do you think the bouquet is for? Decoration? It is all your favorites."

Gemini smiled and walked over to the bouquet. It was incredibly large, perfect for the amount of guests. He picked off one piece of strawberry cut to look like a rose and ate it. "Presents," he said, smiling, "and then dessert."

Bill, right beside him, laughed heartily. "Couldn't resist it, could you?"

Gemini nodded shyly.

"Alright then!" Harry pulled out his wand and cast the presents into the air. They landed neatly behind and around Gemini's chair.

With a smile, Gemini rushed back over and took his seat.

He opened present after present, receiving many nice things from everyone, from books to candy. George, of course, got him something from his shop: a quill that was charmed to write sparkling opal letters no matter what sort of ink was used. Mrs. Weasley made him some fudge and tea cookies. All that was left was one more gift: Harry and Tom's.

Harry placed it before Gemini on the table, who inspected it. It was thin and flat, but hard around the edges. Gemini carefully opened the paper, trying hard not to tear it and ruin its beautiful shine. He managed to get one end open enough to slide it out.

"A frame," Gemini announced. He looked it over, reading the paper inside. "It's my birth certificate?" He looked at Harry and Tom in confusion.

"Yes," Tom answered. "We did tell you we were having problems with some final papers. Well, those papers finally came through. Read your name."

Gemini's eyes went back to the frame in his hand. "Gemini Gaunt." He pressed his lips together, uncertain. "Gemini Gaunt, Gemini Gaunt," he read to himself a couple more times before he noticed something was missing. "My other last name. It's gone."

Tom nodded. "Yes. Swalton: it was the name those ladies at the orphanage gave you since they did not know the names of your parents."

"Tom and I fought for hours at a court hearing to get them to take it off," Harry added. "We told them it wasn't even your real last name, anyway. Eventually, they gave in."

Gemini stared at the frame. It had much more meaning behind it now.

"You are 100% my son, now," Tom said softly. "All that was left of that terrible place is gone."

Gemini looked back up at Tom, tears now gathered in his tan eyes.

He placed the frame on the table and stood up to hug Tom. Adults around the table voiced their sentiments with "aw"s and sniffles. Harry, too, sniffled, happy tears in his eyes.

Gemini released Tom, a wet smile on his face. "Thank you."

Tom smiled warmly down at him. "Of course. But I'm not your only family, you know. Legally, yes, but otherwise," he gestured around the room with a hand, prompting Gemini to look about the room. "All these people are your family. That's why they came to share your birthday with you."

Gemini smiled at them all.

"Thank you," he said. "I've never had a family before."

Tom looked around at everyone, eyes stopping on Harry. "Only the best for you, Gemini."

* * *

Harry woke to the distant cries of glee from downstairs. He wiped at his sleepy eyes and looked out the window to see the time. The sun had risen, but barely touched the white sky. Outside, Harry could see the green trees and grasses were covered in layers of snow, and that frost had just begun to touch the edges of the glass of the window in delicate patterns.

He smiled groggily. _That snow is either the weather being sentimental or Mrs. Weasley._

Had Harry ever had a Christmas at the Burrow where it snowed? He couldn't recall. He knew it normally settled a bit after Christmas, once January rolled around.

He heard the patter of feet up the stairs and nudged at Tom on the bed beside him.

"Tom, Love. It's Christmas morning. We've got to head downstairs to open presents."

With a small groan, Tom turned in the bed to bury his face into the pillow.

"Dad!" Lily's voice outside their door called. She knocked in a constant rhythm. "Wake up, lazy bones."

"Dad!" another voice cried as the knocking ceased. "My stocking is full! Father Christmas actually visited me this year!"

At the sound of his son, Tom rustled a bit. Preparing himself to sit up.

"Of _course_ he did, Gemini," Tom answered, voice rough with sleep. "I told you without those ladies at the orphanage to stop him, he would never pass up the opportunity to finally give you all the gifts you missed."

"Come on, then!" Lily called once more. "Come see what we got!"

Harry chuckled and stood from the bed, nudging at Tom's legs. "Yeah, get up, _lazy bones_. It's Christmas."

"Lazy bones?" Tom asked, flipping onto his back. Harry had walked over to his side of the bed, intending to help Tom up. Instead, Tom pulled Harry back down onto the bed. " _Who_ are you calling _lazy bones_? Surely not I."

Harry laughed, letting it be loud enough to ring throughout the room like a bell.

"Yes, you! We're supposed to be getting _up_."

With a chuckle, Tom released Harry.

"Yes, yes. Fine," Tom called to the doorway. "We are coming."

He and Harry stood from the bed and made their way to the door. Harry opened it, revealing Gemini wearing purple knitted chullo hat with a moving pattern on the side in white that looked as if it were snow falling.

"Do you like my hat?" he asked, eyes such a loud purple, Harry thought they could be glowing.

"Yeah, it's wonderful," Harry answered. "I like it. Was it from Santa Claus?"

Gemini nodded eagerly. "Yeah, he also gave me gloves and thick socks." Gemini held up his stocking in one hand and began to rummage through it with the other hand. "And I got some more chocolate frogs, some muggle candy, and this!" He pulled from the stocking a small red box that read _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes: The Light and the Dark! Shimmering Sliver Salt Drops and Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder_.

Harry nodded. "Very nice. I'm sure you'll have loads of fun with that."

Albus suddenly appeared behind Lily and Gemini, only further blocking Harry and Tom's path down the stairs.

"I've got crowns for everyone!" He held up a few paper crowns carefully in his hands. An orange-pink one already donned his head. "What color do you want, Gem?"

Gemini smiled and picked the light blue one from Albus' hands, carefully placing it over his hat.

Albus handed Lily the red one, which she took happily. Harry took the yellow one and Tom the purple one.

"Alright, let's head downstairs," Harry said. "We've got presents to open."

The group made their way down the stairs where most of the family was already waiting, sent messages by patronus from Mrs. Weasley, no doubt. The house was hardly big enough for everyone and all the presents, but they made it work.

Harry, Tom, Lily, Albus, and Gemini found spots in the room on the floor to sit and squished in beside George, Angelina, and Fred II.

"Where's Papa Ron?" Ginny asked from across the room. "They out of the hospital, yet?"

"Just released last night," Mrs. Weasley announced form the kitchen doorway. "I'm sure they're quite tired. Maybe we ought to let them rest."

"Nonsense!" Bill called. "It's not Christmas without Ron and Hermione."

"Jes!" Fleur called beside him. "Yoo also do not vant to miss ze baby, do yoo?"

"I don't think Rose and Hugo would be too keen about us starting without them, either," Albus added.

"Oh well, alright." Mrs. Weasley pulled put her wand and sent them a patronus. "But at least let the children open the presents wrapped in red."

Everyone smiled and nodded. While the Weasley and Potter children had gotten sweaters every year, this was Gemini's first. Oh, and Mrs. Weasley had worked so hard on his sweater; she couldn't wait to see him wear it.

Lily stood and passed out the red-wrapped presents to the children: herself, Albus, James, Victoire, Dominique, Louis, Fred II, Molly II, Lucy, and finally Gemini. Before the children could begin to rip into the paper, they heard a crackle in the fireplace.

"That must be them!" Mrs. Weasley said making her way to it.

Green flames erupted from the fireplace, and out stepped Ron. Shortly after him was Rose, then Hugo, and finally, Hermione with a small bundle swaddled in a yellow blanket. With a quick wave of his wand, Ron cleared the dirt and ashes from their clothes and smiled with tired eyes at his mother.

"Oh Ron! Minny!" Mrs. Weasley embraced them carefully. "Oh, how's our little girl?"

"Absolutely beautiful," Ron said as he squeezed her and pulled away to look at the baby. "She's got my eyes and her mother's cute nose."

Hermione nodded, dark bags under her warm eyes. Her hair was tied back into a messy bun, allowing bushy bits to escape from the grasp of the elastic.

"Emma," she said to everyone. "Emma Lauren Weasley."

The family all smiled at her, but did not move, so as not to crowd her in the already crowded house. They needed space.

"Vell, yoo both, sit here." Fleur stood from her spot in a chair and offered it to Hermione, who took it with a thankful smile. Fleur stood at her side, looking over the baby with a grin. "Yoo vere right about her nose. Ez very cute."

"Well, now we can start Christmas properly," Mrs. Weasley announced, handing two red boxes to Hugo and Rose. "Come on, children. Open the present you have."

All at once, the children ripped the paper and removed the lid to the box, finding a knitted sweater inside in various colors with their first initial on it. As per normal, the Weasley children smiled and put it on. Gemini was the only one who held it before him, staring uncomprehending at it.

Gemini's was not the same as any of the other sweaters. It was a stark white with little specks of the colors from the other sweaters in it. He stared at the large G on the front, wondering for a moment if the present was not his.

"What d'you think, Gem?" Mrs. Weasley asked him. "Everyone in the family has one. I thought it only best you got one, too."

Gemini let his arms lower, revealing his eyes tan and brimming with tears. "I love it."

Beside him, Tom put an arm around his shoulders. "It is a special gift indeed," he spoke softly into Gemini's ear. "Mrs. Weasley put a lot of effort into it."

Gemini nodded and wiped at his eyes. He stood, pulling himself from Tom's reassuring embrace to go and hug Mrs. Weasley.

"Thank you," he whispered into her jumper.

"Of course, Gemini, dear." She smiled and put her arms around him. "Happy Christmas."

They stayed for a moment longer before Gemini pulled away, a grin on his face. He felt silly, suddenly, for crying over a sweater. But it didn't matter. He was a part of something.

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed suddenly. "I nearly forgot."

She went to the kitchen quickly and pulled one more red-wrapped package from some cabinet none of them could see from their spots in the living room.

With a small smile, she made her way to Tom.

"Here you are, dear. One for you, too."

Tom stared at the box with the same confusion Gemini had on just moments ago, but took the package from her hands. He looked it over carefully, as if it might vanish at any moment. He watched it a few more seconds before realizing it was, in fact, real.

Harry nudged him just a bit. Tom glanced around and noticed that everyone was watching him.

"Well?" Ginny said with a laugh. "Are you going to open it or just look at the paper all day?"

Tom let a half-hearted chuckled loose. He was nervous, though he couldn't explain why. It made sense for Gemini to get all this family stuff, but _Tom_? Yes, they'd accepted him in, but he'd figured it had been more of a tolerance than anything else.

He carefully pulled apart the taped edges and slipped the box from the wrapping. Taking the lid off, he found it was, indeed, a sweater. It was a deep green and had a silver T on the front.

"Do you like it, Tom, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Tom picked it up from the box and turned it around to hold it up to his shoulders. It seemed it would fit him just right, if not just slightly long on the arms. He pressed a hand over the T, feeling its soft texture, letting a smile grow into his features.

"Yes, I think I do," he said absently.

Harry beamed beside him. Tom's smiles never ceased to fill his heart with love.

"Well, go on," Harry prompted.

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "Oh, he doesn't have to if he doesn't want to." She began to make her way back to the tree.

For a moment, Tom wasn't sure what they were talking about. Was he supposed to do something? He thought for a moment on Gemini— _he had opened the present, he had looked it over, he had said he liked it_ —and realized what they meant.

With hesitation, Tom stood. He could feel the eyes of the room on him as he walked the short distance to the tree where Mrs. Weasley was. He stood before her a moment, unsure. She just smiled cheerfully and held out her arms.

Tom stepped into them, placing his arms gently around her. She was warm, not like wearing a jacket on a hot day, but like the gentle heat of hot cocoa that filled one's stomach upon drinking it. He hugged this woman, and he thought of his past: the hurt he had caused her, the hurt he had caused her family and friends. And he had become an unofficial part of that family. Now, he felt welcomed.

"I appreciate the gift," Tom said softly, a small smile on his features. "I cannot possibly say how much it means."

"Oh, Tom," Mrs. Weasley patted his back and pulled away. "You're a part of the family, too. I wasn't about to skip over making you one."

Tom's smile grew. His heart was light and airy. Was this what Christmas felt like? He imagined he could do this every year.

Tom made his way back to his spot and sat down. He pulled the sweater over his head and adjusted it a bit.

"It fits you perfectly," Harry said to him.

Tom nodded. "Of course," he replied. "It was made for me."

"So when will we all wear them?" Gemini asked, his sweater still in his hands.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley began, "I'd like for everyone to get into them before I finish dinner. Then, we can take the picture before we eat."

Tom stretched his arms out in his sweater and placed them around the shoulders of Gemini and Harry with a content sigh.

"Who wants to open presents now?" Mrs. Weasley asked the room as she went through the presents under the tree, reading the tags as to who they were for.

"Let's have another one for the kids," George called out. "Let them open the bright purple and orange ones!"

All the parents groaned.

"Oh no," Percy said. "It's more merchandise, isn't it?"

"Of course it is!" George announced. "I only give the most fun gifts of all."

Beside him, James and Albus high-fived.

Charlie chuckled. "The family that sweaters together pranks together," he said.

The room laughed alongside him, feeling the joy in the air. Maybe it was the snow or the new additions to the family, but the Weasley's had never had a Christmas that felt quite so complete.

* * *

Harry finally took a seat on his bed in Hogwarts, letting the stiff ache off his legs at last. His bones were tired. Truly, when he thought about it, he couldn't remember if he had sat down all day. He was sure he'd been standing since breakfast this morning. He sighed, laying his back down onto the softness of his bed. He hadn't realized giving O. and N.E.W.T.s were as difficult as taking them.

Not two seconds later, there was a knock at his door.

Harry groaned and got up from his bed reluctantly, shuffling to the door.

" _Toooom_ ," he groaned, but stopped as he realized it was not, in fact, Tom as his door, but Neville and Hannah.

"Oh," he looked at them all, brows furrowed and questioning. "What's going on?"

"Harry, you've _got_ to see this," Hannah said, a wildly happy look in her tired brown eyes. She was holding Hope—the newest Longbottom who was over five months old now—on her hip.

"Okay," Harry said, uncertain. He followed them across the hallway into the open door of Neville's room, where there was a small TV on, turned to MaWN (Muggle and Wizarding News).

Harry's eyes widened as he saw a familiar woman on the podium speaking to the Ministry. He had seen her covered in bruises and blood, with scars and scratches, weak and thin and unsure. But here she was on the screen, her skin smooth, appearing strong and confident like a birch tree. Her tawny brown eyes not wide and frightened, but confident and sure, even if she was only a muggle among wizards: Janet Baker.

"For too long," she began, voice steady in a way Harry had never heard before, "wizards have lived in fear of being discovered. For too long, muggles, both aware and unaware of the magical world, have treated muggleborn wizards like freaks of nature. For _too long_ ," emotion ran into her voice— _that_ was the voice Harry remembered as Janet's—requiring her to pause a moment.

"For too long," she said softer, "wizards have taken to hating muggles, attacking them in hopes of defending themselves, or getting revenge. Many have called this world _peaceful_ , simply because we are not at war. _War does not mean peace._ Long before this war with Thomas began, I was his prisoner. Long before this war began, wizards and muggles were being harmed physically, emotionally, by one another. Thomas was a terrible man who took many things from me: blood, tears… _freedom…_ "

Harry watched Janet on the screen take a shaky breath.

"This is not peace. There are aspects of this world—of _our_ worlds—that need fixing. And there is one person I know of who knows how to fix it. It's no wonder that, upon a discussion of who would take up the newly available role of Minister for Magic, the name Hermione Weasley's name came up almost unanimously on everyone's lips."

Harry gasped, a smile growing on his features. Neville, a similar smile on his face, patted Harry on the back and nodded.

"She's always been incredibly passionate about the right thing to do," Janet continued, eyes glancing down at the podium briefly. "In her years at Hogwarts, she petitioned for rights for house elves, which she carried with her into the Ministry after graduating top of her class. She was able to get legislation which has since benefitted many elves, giving them the freedom they deserve while also respecting their culture of serving. Since then, she has always been a frontrunner for improving muggle/wizard relations. If there is anyone who is capable of fixing this gap, it is Hermione Weasley." A polite smile came onto her face. "I now introduce to you all, your new Minister for Magic, Hermione Jean Weasley."

There was applause. Hermione stepped up to the podium with a determined smile, shaking Janet's hand. Janet stepped off the stage, then, Hermione taking her replace behind the podium.

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I can't describe to you how much of an honor this is. I would first like to show my appreciation to Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt who, after retiring from the job of Minister for Magic several years ago, took up the position once more until the Ministry could get back on its feet." She looked to her left and nodded. "His wisdom and experience is and was invaluable in our time of need."

There was a small bit of applause.

"Of course, now we must look to the future," Hermione continued. "Yes, we've gotten this far with removing corruption, racism, and criminal activity. However, many aspects of the Ministry and of the wizarding community still need attention. It is _our_ job to shine light on those things, and to make vows to fix them, no matter how difficult it seems. After many years of advocating for this cause, I can finally say I have not only the ability to fix it, but a plan for how to do so. Within the Ministry, we have already begun to work on this new plan. There will be a new department in the Ministry for Magic focused entirely on Wizard and Muggle relations. We are still in the process of hiring, but positions in this department will work closer to the muggle Prime Minister, as well as with muggles who house and interact with wizards. These muggles will enter a registry and will be monitored to ensure the proper care for wizarding children and adults. In addition, the Ministry for Magic has also agreed to provide more funding for St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in order to better address the needs of mental health issues for wizards. We hope, with these changes, to prevent many of the circumstances surrounding the lives of Tom Riddle and Thomas Gamp. No longer will wizards need to fight for the right to be themselves. As your new Minister for Magic, my muggle associate Janet and I will always look for ways to improve lives. Together, we will bring our worlds into a new era of peace and prosperity. Thank you so much."

Mouth agape with the corners upturned in a smile, Harry shook his head vaguely.

"She finally did it," Hannah said. "She's been working towards it for so long. I'm just not sure she noticed until they offered her the job."

Neville chuckled. "Oh, she's going to be great. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. The Ministry was going to go in a direction he could agree with. Never again would there be a child in danger of becoming Voldemort. Instead, they would be like Tom, or Gemini: with loved ones, a bright future, and hope.

_And never again_ , he thought, _will there be another Harry Potter_. He gave a breath of relief.

"This is _beyond_ fantastic," Harry said. "I can't believe she didn't tell me this was coming."

The screen flicked from the Ministry scene to a commercial for self-cleaning cauldrons.

"You think Ron knew?" Hannah asked. "I'm not sure she would have told anyone else."

Harry shrugged. "Not sure. I've been so caught up in student testing and training, I honestly haven't been doing much else."

"Oh yeah," Neville looked to Harry. "You've also have your animagus class. How's that been going?"

Harry sighed, but a smile painted itself over his features. "It's so much work, but the results are unbelievable. There's no comparison for how hard some of the students. They all love it, and I love that they love it. The success rate is _far_ beyond what I expected."

Neville nodded. "That's teaching, mate. It's a good feeling."

Hannah bounced Hope, her eyes on the baby as she spoke to Harry. "Is today the last training, then?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "We're doing one final, short practice before we go to the registry." A wistful smile on his face, Harry shook his head. "Speaking of, I'm going to take a small nap before dinner so I can actually be awake for practice later."

"Well, dinner is in a few minutes," Neville called out as Harry made his way to the door.

Harry sighed. "Is it really?"

Neville nodded, nose crinkled and eyes apologetic.

"Then, I suppose I'm going to head to dinner. Are you coming?"

Neville shook his head. "Nah, Hannah and I are going home. The Cauldron is usually pretty busy this time of year."

"Alright." Harry waved his hand. "I'll see you later, then."

Harry walked out the door and headed to the Dining Hall, finding his bones were no less tired or achy, but that his mind tingled with anticipation and excitement.

Upon his arrival at dinner, he found most of the professors were already in their seats before empty plates. The room was full of chatter, as usual, though Harry could see the somber faces amongst the students, preparing to bid farewells to their friends for the summer or, in the case of the seventh years, to the school.

Of course, he was sure some of them would be back for something or another. Professors would retire. They would have children who needed schooling. And when those things happened, Hogwarts would be there to welcome them home.

"Hello, Harry," Tom said, walking with Theodore. They both offered friendly smiles, taking their seats beside him.

"Hey Tom. Theo," Harry greeted. "Where've you two been?"

"Oh, I _had_ to show Tom the potion my _prized student_ brewed for his final exam," Theo said with a chuckle. "Really brilliant, that kid. Hard to believe he's only a first year."

"Oh yeah? Good to hear." Harry grinned, his pride for Gemini growing (not that it ever shrunk, but he was always finding more reasons to be amazed by the boy).

At that moment, Padma stood. With a somber smile, she wished everyone well in their last day at Hogwarts. Harry found it touching. He would definitely miss Hogwarts, he thought, but he had another home now, too.

The feast appeared, and they ate. Harry hardly paid any attention to the conversation Theo and Tom were having. His mind was focused on training later that day. He would have to bid farewell to these students, who he had gotten to know personally. Harry had worked with them every night to manage their mistakes individually, to give them confidence when they needed it, to point them in the right direction. He knew these students like the back of his hand, and now he was about to release them into the world. Were they ready?

"Harry," Tom said softly beside him. "Are you feeling alright?"

Harry snapped from his thoughts.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Just got my mind stuck on training."

Theo smiled and patted him on the back. "Yeah, I've heard it's been going well. Good on you."

Harry smirked. "Thanks, but it's not all me. It's the students, really. They've all put so much work into this. I'm just one of the ones that supervised them."

Tom scoffed. "The students could work hard all day but never reach the heights they have because you have been there to teach them."

"Yeah, take some credit," Theo said with a smirk. "We all _know_ it's you. You're Harry Potter."

Harry chuckled. They ate in silence for a moment before Harry remembered he had news to share.

"Oi! Did you all hear? Hermione became Minister for Magic."

Theo nearly spit out the gulp of wine he had taken. "Are you serious?" He put his drink down carefully. "It's about time they put someone as competent as Shacklebolt in that position. Those other blokes were no good."

"I am not at all shocked," Tom said. "She was the only choice after everything she did for the Ministry these past months. She practically rebuilt it herself."

Harry nodded, a breathy laugh coming through his nose. "She did. And she's going to be great. But uh…" Harry gazed at Tom, "I was watching the ceremony on MaWN in Neville's room, and _Janet Baker_ introduced her."

Tom's brows rose on his forehead. "Is that so?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, she gave a great speech on the problems with the relationship between the wizarding and muggle worlds. She looked great…almost as if Thomas never happened to her."

Tom gave half a smile and continued to eat. Harry felt a push in his mind and allowed Tom to enter. Together, they ate in silence, letting their minds think together on it. It was something they had done many times, and it had become as natural to them as breathing.

_Where has she been since she left The Burrow?_

_Not sure. I hadn't seen her in such a long time. It's hard to believe she is out in the world again. Especially the Wizarding world._

_Yes, it is rather odd. They let a muggle speak at the Ministry? We must truly be heading into a new era._

_Yeah. She's Hermione's associate, apparently. They're working together._

_Fascinating._

Dinner was soon over as plates were empty. Most students were hesitant to return to their houses. Many seventh years, however, were almost rushing to leave so as to not be late.

"Well," Harry began as he stood up. "I've got to head out. Training starts in a few minutes."

"I will see you after, Harry," Tom said.

Harry stepped away from his chair.

"Have fun!" Theo called after him. Harry nodded and waved at him before turning and heading to the classroom dedicated to their training.

When he arrived through the doors, one minute before it was scheduled to begin, he was greeted by every single one of his students.

"Professor Potter!" many of them cried happily afterwards. "Today's the final day!"

He laughed. "It sure is." He glanced around the room, taking in the faces of the seventh years, Dennis Creevey, and Gemini. "So _where,_ in Merlin's name, is Professor Davies?"

Many of them shrugged.

"He was at dinner," one of the seventh year Hufflepuffs said.

"I'm pretty sure I saw him leave," a Slytherin said.

"Maybe he's running a bit late, then," Harry answered. "We'll wait." He smiled at them all. "Are you all ready? You've all got it. Now, you just need to perform it for the Ministry."

A few heads nodded, but mostly, he noticed his students grow worried. They knew this was coming, but he was sure the nervous feelings wouldn't stop until it was over.

"Hey, everyone," he stated, trying to get their attention, "look here. Listen to these words: You. Will. Do. _Wonderful_. All of you. You have worked at this every single day for a _whole year_. I've watched all you progress so quickly. Far too quickly, actually. That's why we cut down practice time from two hours to one hour. I know it's different, thinking about doing this in front of Ministry officials, but I have faith in every single one of you."

"As do I." Into the room stepped Roger Davies, an apologetic smile on his face. "I apologize for my lateness. I forgot to grab this before I headed to dinner."

He held up two rather plain-looking fabric bags.

"Come, all of you. Grab your paperwork and some chocolate."

"Chocolate?" one of the Ravenclaws students asked. "Is that supposed to help us with the transformation?"

Roger chuckled. "Nope. It's only for enjoyment, I'm afraid. Figured you all could use a pick-me-up."

One by one, the students grabbed their paperwork and piece of chocolate from the bags Roger had.

"You want a piece, Dennis?" Roger asked the other professor as he grabbed the paperwork but not the candy.

Dennis shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm afraid I might be sick."

"You've absolutely no reason to be worried," Harry stated. "You are ready. You can do this."

Dennis nodded, his smile only halfhearted.

Harry sighed and looked about the room once again. "I know you all are used to the feeling of group effort, team here on out, it's all on your own. So, as a practice for this, we're going to have one student at a time come to the front and demonstrate. Who would like to go first?"

Harry scanned the students, finding many were avoiding his gaze. No one wanted to be first.

"I can just as easily pick someone," he said sternly. Still, no one spoke. "Alright. We'll do it the hard way, then. Joel!" Harry looked to the groaning Gryffindor seventh year and smiled. "You're first."

Joel came to the front of the room. Harry could just barely hear him chant under his breath the incantation they had learned while training, " _Amato animo animato animagus._ " He took in a deep breath, letting out slowly, then began his transformation.

In an instant, Joel was a boar with a deep earthy brown coat and curled off-white tusks like spears. He shook his head, letting out a small squeal, before changing back just as quickly.

Harry smiled and clapped. The rest of the room followed suit.

"Excellent, Joel," Harry praised. "Next?" Once again, Harry scanned the room. A Slytherin student made the mistake of meeting his gaze. "Annabelle! Come on up."

The girl ran a hand through her unbelievably curly black hair with a shaking hand. After a moment, her face set and she made her way to the front of the classroom. Without hesitation, she transformed into a white fox with a black nose and bright blue eyes. The classroom began to clap once more.

"Wonderful. Very good. Next?" Harry looked about before finding green eyes that turned yellow when he met them. "Gemini?"

Gemini's mousy brown hair paled to a blond as he made his way up to the front. He'd had no troubles when he worked independently, Harry thought, but how would he do with viewers?

Gemini's small body morphed into a small bird, its feathers extremely turquoise with black and white detailing on its wings, so bright, the colors were almost reflective. He ruffled his feathers a bit, hopping to the left and letting out a soft chirp in Harry's direction before changing back into a boy with mousy brown hair and bright purple eyes.

"Perfect," Harry said as everyone began to clap. "Very impressive."

Harry felt his chest rise with pride. Gemini had accomplished a piece of magic far beyond his age level. He was powerful with magic; that was nothing new. But for him to come before the class and transform perfectly…that, Harry realized, was his greatest accomplishment. Gemini was no longer the shy boy who feared being rejected constantly throughout his day. He was still a bit quiet, sure, but confident.

It was possibly the best thing Harry could have taught him.

Harry let a sentimental smile come over his face. He could feel in his heart that Gemini was going to go on and do great things. And Harry was going to be there to help him when he needed it, just as he would with any of his children. Gemini _was_ one of his children, practically. In everything but the law.

_That'll change soon_ , he thought, remembering the black ring box that sat concealed behind a Shakespeare book in Tom's library, _The Complete Sonnets and Poems._ And Harry would be damned if he wasn't going to read Tom a sonnet or two. He was a cheesy romantic. He couldn't help it.

"Next!" Harry called, his heart feeling whole, as it had for the past few months and as it would for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the story.


	39. Epilogue Part 2

Tom held his breath as the fluttering in his stomach grew in intensity. He was more than sure that, in a few moments, he was going to lose what little breakfast he had managed to eat this morning, and he chastised himself for it. The planning was all done. The people were here. Now, all he had to do was walk down an aisle, listen to some minister talk for a while, then say a few words and sign a few papers. How hard was that? He was a well-know, well-performing, and charismatic wizard. He was Samuel Tom Gaunt, and he loved Harry James Potter with all his heart and soul. Merlin be _damned_ if he was getting cold feet.

...except that maybe he was.

He felt like his stomach was flying off on a broom without him. He took a short intake of air and held onto the wooden door frame for stability. He seriously needed to get a grip. He loved this man. What was wrong with a wedding? He was used to speaking in public, and outings, and sharing his interests and opinions with others. What made this so different?

He was already a member of the Harry/Weasley/Lupin-Black/Scamander-Lovegood/Malfoy/Miscellaneous cluster of people who were practically family. He knew them all fairly well, and the few others that were in attendance were aurors or professors that Harry knew. He didn't feel embarrassed or regretful to be doing this. He wasn't even sure it was nerves. Tom did not feel the queasiness of uncertainty, or the hollowness of dread. No, there was a buzzing inside him, like excitement, and something else he could not place. Something like...like he had overlooked something. The thought almost knocked him off his feet. He had forgotten something. He had planned a lot of it, and checked over the rest of it, but there was a slight detail he had overlooked.

All those people were here for Harry. They would come in and sit on Harry's side of the semi-small church in Godric's Hollow. Who, then, would sit on his side?

Well, he lied. There was the hollowness of dread. He could feel it now. All the friends he had were Harry's, not his own. He was a lonely man who used to be evil. Merlin knows that he would be a lonely man who was _s_ _till_  evil if it hadn't been for Harry. Why did Harry want to marry him? Sure, the sex was good, but beyond that...was Harry sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Tom?

"Hey," a small voice behind him soothed.

Tom turned to look at his son, his boy, Gemini, dressed in his tan colored tux with a shimmering white bow-tie. All at once, Tom's thoughts felt lighter.

"Hello, Sandy Locks," Tom mused with a soft smile, placing a gentle hand on the tan hair on Gemini's head.

Gemini chuckled softly. "Hello, Snake Eyes."

Tom gave a big grin. He was sure he'd never tire of any nickname Gemini gave him.

"Dad," Gemini said, his humor diminishing into a somber tone. "Are you alright?"

Tom's smile faded only slightly. If no one else sat on his side, at least he'd have Gemini, looking at him with such loving soft brown eyes. He was all he needed.

Well, him and Harry.

"I am fantastic, Gemini," Tom answered, a new pep to his words. "I just...was giving way to nerves. I hardly have any reason to be nervous."

Gemini nodded. "Alright. I just wanted to check on you before I sat down. Remember, don't get intimidated." Gemini's tan eyes turned a deep brown. "Don't over think. Watch out for any prank triggers we didn't catch, and above all else..." Gemini's eyes faded back to tan. "Don't forget that you love Mr. Pott..." he stopped a moment to correct himself, "...that you love Papa and I more than anything in the world. If you feel unsure, you can look to me in the front row or to him right beside you. Okay?"

Tom smiled, his heart large and warm in his chest. "Of course, Gem. Thank you."

Gemini smiled, stepping forward to place his arms around Tom. "First row," he reminded, "right behind where you'll stand."

With that, Gemini dropped his arms and left through the wooden doorway. Tom nodded. It was almost time. He should get to the entrance and wait for Harry.

He stepped out the door and walked down the hallway where he could see the decorated arch that led into the sanctuary of the church: white lilies were grouped together at the top in a large bouquet and colorful wildflowers adorned the sides like a scattered rainbow. They had talked about it and arranged for a florist witch to arrange it all, but seeing it now...it was breathtaking.

There was a gasp down the hallway and Tom took his eyes from the archway to see Harry at last. It was the first time they had seen each other since that morning, and he looked stunning. Black shoes with slim black pants that didn't make his thin legs look too skinny, but lean; a black coat with ruby red waistcoat, white dress shirt, and golden bow-tie. A white calla lily was pinned to his lapel. From beneath his black glasses, Harry's green eyes shone with disbelief and adoration.

Tom smirked and looked down at himself with an expression as if to say, "what? this old thing?"

Truly, he'd worked hard to put together an outfit for himself that he felt was the peak of who he was. That was the theme of their wedding, after all, rather than a color-scheme.

Tom wore black dress shoes and grey slim trousers with a white dress shirt, deep dusty-rose colored waistcoat, with a soft, medium green bow-tie. On his lapel, was an old, barely preserved rose, donated to him by Mrs. Weasley. It was the one she wore at her wedding, she told him. And it matched him just perfectly. 

"Tom," Harry said softly, still overcome by amazement. "You are just...perfect."

Someone by the door nodded and the music began to play softly. Tom walked over into the archway, holding a hand out for Harry. When Harry grabbed his hand, their minds joined as well, sharing with one another the sensation of oneness they had grown attached to. Tom brought Harry's hand to his lips and ever-so-gently kissed it before wrapping his arm around Harry's and turning to look down the aisle. 

His eyes widened and his mouth hung as he saw all the pews were brimming with people, even on his side. For a moment, he stopped in his tracks, heart soaring and head lost somewhere in the clouds of happiness. 

His eyes scanned his side of the church, finally locking eyes with Gemini: a sea of tan and purple, love and excitement. His son gave him a gentle nod, and Tom took that first step forward.

The ceremony was beautiful after that. The priest was eloquent but concise in describing the importance of love and devotion to both God and each other. Tom felt himself tearing up when Harry was saying his vows, and he could feel the whirlwind of love in Harry's mind as Tom said his. They exchanged the rings—simple silver bands with an inscription of their names inside—and said "I do." Then they kissed, and it seemed like it was all over so fast. Everyone clapped and cheered as they made their way out to sign the papers. Their minds were buzzing and light, and above all else, happy. 

A couple hours later, they were all sitting in the Great Hall at Hogwarts for the reception, students and wedding guests alike, all eating and being merry. The hall was loud but more joyous than the Potter children had ever seen it. House tables didn't matter, as everyone sat anywhere they pleased. It was a nice change, they thought, not having to worry about silly distinctions like that. They had many friends in other houses, especially in Ravenclaw House.

"Gem," Lily began at the end of their last conversation, "we got you a present."

Gemini's smiling face fell slightly to make way for his drawn in eyebrows and confused eyes. "A present? What for?"

"Well," James began, pulling a small box from his pocket and enlarging it to its normal size. "Of course, we wanted to celebrate Dad's marriage to Tom, but we also wanted to celebrate getting a new brother."

Albus picked up the present from James's hands and passed it to Lily across the table. Lily placed it in Gemini's lap beside her. 

For a moment, Gemini simply stared at it. It had silver and red striped paper with a small red ribbon bow right on top that carried a tag that red, "To our newest brother." Delicately, he ran his fingers over the words on the tag, as if doing so would break the illusion. As he noticed the words were truly there, the smile returned to his face. 

"Well?" Scorpious asked beside him. The words sounded a bit harsh, but Gemini knew now that he didn't mean any harm by it. "Are you going to open it?"

The call-to-action broke Gemini from his hesitation. He pulled off the ribbon and tore into the paper. Once the paper was off, he opened the plain white box underneath. Inside that was three chocolate frog boxes, all colored a bright, holographic silver and black instead of the usual purple and gold. In the top corner, he noticed the words "Limited Time Only" in bright red letters. 

"Wow!" Gemini exclaimed. "Limited edition chocolate frogs? What's different about them?"

The Potter children smiled while their friends and family looked on curiously beside them.

"Open one and find out," said Lily with a smirk.

Gemini picked one out, setting the box down on the bench beside him. He had a bit of a collection of chocolate frogs, now: a Helga Hufflepuff, a Godric Gryffindor, an Albus Dumbledore, and two Flavious Belbys. Now, he could really add to his collection. 

He opened the box and grabbed the frog as it jumped out. For good measure, he bit into its head before pulling out the card and setting the frog back inside.

In place of the normal purple and gold card, there was a black and silver one, though the outer pattern seemed to be the same. As Gemini turned over the card, he felt his breath pull in his chest. 

"Tom Marvolo Riddle!" he yelled in surprise, flipping the card over immediately to read the rest. "1926 to 1998 and June 2019 to September 2019! Tom Marvolo Riddle studied at Hogwarts before growing into a hatred for muggles and heading off into the Dark Arts. He came to power as the evil dark wizard He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and started the First Wizarding War in 1970. He was thought to be defeated by Harry James Potter for many years before he returned to power once more in 1994, beginning the Second Wizarding War. He was, once again, thought to be defeated in 1998 by Harry James Potter. He returned to life for a few months in 2019 to aid in the rise of the dark wizard Thomas Gamp, but switched his loyalties when Gamp attempted to murder him. He was essential in the final defeat of Gamp by bringing both Gamp and himself to their deaths by a fall off the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower."

Gemini's bright purple eyes were wide and bright as he reached for the next chocolate frog in the box, opening it with ease and getting the card out before the frog had even made it out of the box.

"Harry James Potter!" Gemini yelled, reading faster than his mouth could move. "1980 to present. Known as The Boy Who Lived for his defeat of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named in 1981 and 1998. Also one of three wizards to bring the demise of Thomas Gamp in 2019. Now known simply as The Hero of the Wizarding World. Currently a professor at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry."

He pulled the last chocolate frog from the box and opened it, not bothering to catch it when it slipped past the opening and onto his lap. It sat quietly and patiently as he pulled out the card. While Gemini expected to see Thomas's blonde hair and long, creepy smiling face on the card, his lungs ceased to function as he turned it and found his own face staring back at him. The him on the card gave a shy smile and his hair and eyes changed color depending on what angle the card was at—blond with one-green-one-brown a little to the left, mousy brown and purple a little to the right, and white and yellow when tipped up. 

"Gemini Gaunt," he read softly, barely comprehending it all. "2008-Present. The youngest of the three wizards to defeat the evil dark wizard Thomas Gamp, his father. Known to have extraordinarily powerful magic for his age. Currently a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The Potter children smiled large. A crowd had gathered around them, now, all silently gaping at the new limited edition chocolate frog cards. The chatter in the room had died down significantly.

"I'm on a chocolate frog card!" Gemini exclaimed, then, coming to the realization that he was, truly, staring at a card with his face on it.

"Yeah, after the whole incident with Thomas, one of the evilest wizards of all time, the card people really wanted the heroes on the cards," Albus said. "And Uncle George knows one of the guys really well. He said he could get him a personal interview with Dad and in exchange, he asked for these three specific cards and permission to sell the limited edition frogs in his shop."

"So really, these cards are from Uncle George," said Lily, "but he gave them to us, so technically, they are from us."

"Wow..." Gemini's face fell into glee. "I'm on a chocolate frog card." He turned and hugged Lily, then looked across the table at James and Albus. "Thank you all so much. This is a wonderful gift."

The Potter children smiled. 

"You deserve it, Gem," said James, extending an arm across the table to pat him on the back. 

Gemini released Lily and stared around him at the people in the crowd. He knew every single one of them. Some where family. Some were practically family. Some were friends and classmates. But all of them knew him. All of them liked him. And most importantly, he liked himself. Chocolate frog card or not. (But the chocolate frog card thing was awesome, don't get him wrong.)

His purple eyes fell, then, on the head table where most of the professors were. Down the row, off to the right side of Headmistress Patil, were his dads. From here, he could see them looking at him lovingly, hands together with intertwined fingers. They were the first people he never doubted were his family. His dad (Tom) was the first official and legal family member he had. Now, with this marriage, not only was Harry his official, legal family, but everyone else that he had grown to know as family over the past few months. He could hardly believe that he was once a boy with no one. 

From beside Harry, Ron rose and walked over to the Padma's seat, whispering something to her. With a smile, she nodded.

Ron, champagne flute in hand, walked over to the podium and clinked his glass. The sound magically grew louder until everyone was quiet and listening (which did not take long). He cleared his throat and pulled a piece of parchment from his tux pocket.

"This wouldn't quite be a reception without a best man speech, now would it?" Ron chuckled nervously. A few people laughed with him around the room before falling back into silence. "I've already given a speech at his first wedding about us meeting, an' all, so I'll stick to more recent events. I'll be honest with you all," Ron said, staring down at his parchment and reading, "I lost Harry for a while. When-"

The parchment in his hand went up in flames and was gone in an instant. Ron gave an unexpected yelp before looking back to Hermione, whose look of indignation told him that yes, she was responsible for it, but no, she wasn't sorry. She had spent no less than half an hour earlier telling him to  _not read straight from his notes page_. Now, the notes page was gone. Ron's face grew a bit paler but seemed to fall back into the calm expression he had before. 

"When...uh...when he lost his job as Head Auror, I saw that he was hurting. I knew that Harry's whole life was that job. It's who he was. But they gave it to me. I figured he'd want some space for a while. Then, he and my sister got a divorce and...and I thought that maybe he wanted space forever. I didn't notice that something wasn't right in what was going on because I didn't look. Hermione always tells me I can't see what's right in front of my nose, and she was right, as always. I didn't see that Harry shouldn't have been fired. I didn't see that he and Ginny were having problems. And I didn't see that Harry was going through a tough time. I apologize for that. That makes me not a very good friend."

Ron was quiet a moment before he continued, "I didn't see him for most of the year until we took the kids to King's Cross for school. Then I saw Harry and...I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to let the past get in the way, but things were...different. Now, I didn't see it, but Hermione told me she could tell that Harry was thin and paler than he had been before the divorce. There were dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't been sleeping. But there was also excitement in his eyes when he saw his children. There was happiness in the tone of his voice when he told us that he had gotten the job of DADA professor at Hogwarts. He was on an upward turn after a rough summer, and I was thinking about how to avoid the subject of the auror office."

Ron turned to look at Harry. 

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there with you, mate. But let me tell you, I had plenty of time to think about it all." He turned his attention back to the many people in the hall, sitting quietly, anxiously for his speech to continue. 

"When Thomas kidnapped me and the other aurors, all I thought about day and night was Harry. Well, and my family. Harry is my family, whether he's married to my sister or not. I thought about him coming to rescue us at least once a day. I thought about him looking for me and how I long I would make it before I got back to Hermione and the kids. Mostly, I thought about how Harry would never have let his aurors be captured by anyone. I did everything in my power to be Harry Potter during that time. Eventually, Thomas got to me. For a long while, I just thought to myself about how I failed everyone, especially Harry. When I finally got back and woke up, that's all I told everyone. And all they told me back was that I had done exactly  what Harry would have done, which was to fight until I couldn't fight anymore..." He gulped. '"The things that happened there changed me forever...but when I slept, I knew Harry was trying to reach us. And when I woke to see Hermione, I knew it was all Harry's doing. He gave himself to keep all the aurors safe. He went straight to Thomas to keep Hermione safe, and he even saved Janet, someone he hadn't even expected to need saving. He kept his children safe, and my children, all the students at Hogwarts. Time and time again, this man is selfless. It's astounding."

Ron took a moment to chuckle. "But I'm sure you all knew that stuff about Harry. What you don't know is how I first reacted when they told me." There were a few scattered chuckles from the crowd. "It seems everyone knew Tom before I did. Even Ginny had met him before I got to. Any way, I didn't quite take to Tom at first. He really likes the theory of Dark Arts more than I'm comfortable with, but over the past few months of knowing him, I've seen how happy he makes Harry. They're like two halves of each other. They can even communicate without speaking sometimes. If you're not careful, you'll only hear parts of the conversation while they carry it on without you." Quite a few more chuckles erupted from the listeners. "What I mean to say is that there is no one more deserving of happiness than Harry, and I think if Tom can give that to him, then they belong together." Ron raised his glass. "To Harry and Tom."

Everyone raised their glasses for a moment before placing them down to clap and cheer. After a moment, Ron added, "But Tom, if you hurt Harry...I have no qualms with going to Azkaban."

Ron's serious staring at Tom broke into a smile. The crowd laughed and clapped as Ron went back to his seat. Before he sat down, Harry stood and hugged him, eliciting a few "aw"s. 

Ron sat and the chatter commenced. Another course appeared on the tables: dessert. Rather than having wedding cake (which Harry did not much care for), the tables were lined with candies and fruit. Before long, many of the candy platters and fruit bowls were sparse. From the far left table stood Mrs. Weasley, who made her way to the podium and clinked her champagne flute.

"It's time for another toast," she said, looking around, waiting for the chatter to quiet down once more. "First, I'd like to clear up some things. I've had many people ask me what role I was playing in this wedding, so let me explain. At the first wedding, I was the mother of the bride. At this wedding, I am the mother of both grooms, as well as the father of both grooms,  _and_ the maid of honor." The crowd chuckled. "Now that we have that settled, I can get on to the toast. I have invited many people into my home: my family members, friends of my children, even Tom Riddle when he and Harry had just rescued Hermione and Janet from Thomas. However, never in my life have I invited two men as caring and selfless as the ones who were married today: Harry and Tom." After a beat or two of silence, she joked, "That may sound like a compliment to them, but really, it's an insult to my own children." The crowd laughed as Mrs. Weasley smiled. 

"Oh, I'm just teasing," she said, looking right at George, Percy, and Charlie, who sat at the table she came from. "You're all wonderful men, too." She chuckled. "I've had the sweetest blessing of many grandchildren, and each and every one of the have their own personalities. I was thankful that I once again got to invite another child into my home as well. Gemini. He's such a lovely thing. So helpful and considerate. It breaks my heart to think that before coming to Hogwarts, he had no family to call his own. And while I thought for sure that Harry would be the first one to show him what that really meant, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was Tom who did so. Yes, Tom is a nice man, gentleman, who knows a lot about many things I've never had the audacity to study. But Tom is also a caring and loving father. In their more gentle moments, Tom and Gemini are grateful for one another. I've never heard either of them raise a voice at one another or argue. There is only love and understanding, which as a parent, I have to say I am jealous of. But nothing brings my heart more joy than knowing that my boy, Harry, will be in such care. Love is a true blessing." She raised her glass. "To Harry and Tom. May they forever care for each other."

Everyone raised their glasses to toast and set them down to clap as Mrs. Weasley went back to her seat. 

Not long after, the reception was over. Although they had wanted to dance and party, the time was growing late, and there were still classes the next day. Instead, Harry and Tom met Gemini outside Ravenclaw tower to say goodnight.

Gemini's warm tan eyes stared up at them with love. "That was so much fun. I'm glad you two are together forever."

Tom smiled. "We are. All three of us. Together forever."

Tom and Gemini hugged for a moment, their breathing calm, even, and comfortable. When they broke apart, Gemini turned to Harry. 

"I'll see you tomorrow in class," Gemini said.

Harry smirked. "Indeed you will," he said with a wink.

Gemini wrapped his arms around Harry suddenly, catching him off guard. After a moment, Harry hugged him back, a smile growing on his face. 

Gemini let go, then, and bid them both good night. They watched him, hand in hand, as he turned and climbed the steps to Ravenclaw tower. Their hearts were light and still full from the happiness of the day's events. 

"This has been the most perfect day," said Harry as they turned to head to their room near Gryffindor tower. 

"It has," replied Tom. "And I know I'll have many more since I have you in my life."

Harry gave a soft, breathy laugh. "Forever," he said.

With a content sigh, Tom agreed. "Forever."


End file.
